Ripple Effect of the Virus

Thanksgiving 2020

The Oregon governor asks that we don't travel,

this year because of spikes in Covid-19 cases.

 My son's family has been part of my bubble,

so I am going to his house for Thanksgiving.

My concern: how soon do I make my pumpkin pie so that it is fresh?

I hear on the radio:

According to the Oregon Food Bank, we are facing

the greatest food insecurity since the Great Depression.

The TV reported thousands of cars in line to collect food boxes.

There aren't enough volunteers to help in this, since most volunteers are retirees.

The same group is at the highest risk of serious complications from the disease.

"Terrible," I say.  But I have a recurring donation to the Oregon Food Bank

in place.

Should I have whipped cream with the pumpkin pie?

We Split the Work

- a snapshot of our marriage

 

We split the shake.

We split the fries.

We split the work.

We compromised.

In Alaska, I ordered a grubstake.

He carried grocery cases.

He was a carpenter.

I was a baker.

He cut down trees for our home,

I cut kindling for our steam.

I had our baby.

He ensured we had running water to wash diapers.

 I packed and labeled boxes.

He loaded them into a shipping container.

We split the shake.

We split the fries.

We split the work.

We compromised.

He started his business in Oregon.

I stayed home with the young ones.

He built our home.

I cooked our meals.

He wrestled with our boys.

I baked cookies for them.

He built and remodeled.

I billed his clients and paid our bills.

He loaded up a tackle box.

I loaded up a food box.

We split the shake.

We split the fries.

We split the work.

We compromised.

I was a den mother.

He was a scout leader.

I found our downtown office.

He remodeled it.

He remodeled our home.

I bought new furniture.

He hired new employees.

I reviewed our finances.

I bought plane tickets.

He carried scuba gear.

We split the shake.

We split the fries.

We split the work,

We compromised.

I retired first.

He retired second.

He cut grass.

I planted flowers.

He looked at destinations.

I reserved cruises.

He got sick first.

Tribute to Tahsis

-   our last dog

How do you pronounce her name?

Always the question.

T ..ah  sis I would say.

My husband's best black lab.

Her shiny, soft coat she carefully polished with her pink tongue.

She, our best-looking dog with classic proportions,

Her vet removed one toe Tahsis broke as a puppy while jumping from a garage shelf.

She knew her name but sometimes conveniently forgot it!

And she displayed unusual discernment of our needs.

As a puppy, she only chewed,

 on sticks, not our gloves or shoes.

She had a fine nose for hunting and retrieving,

but not for chasing ducks on our pond.

The only time she chased a deer was when a buck charged us in a campground.

She strategically placed herself between me and a scamming salesman.

She taught herself to carefully retrieve and repeatedly dropped

 the ball right in front of my walker.

As she tilted her head, she followed me with knowing eyes.

Dutifully she hiked for hours until her body was riddled with pain.

Then she searched my eyes for respite, which, sadly, I couldn't give her.