Monthly Archives: February 2020

What! Me Worry?

I’m trying to be levelheaded about the COVID-19 virus, but I find myself of two minds. One of the minds says not to worry, that this too shall pass. And if I’m in good health and living a healthy life, I should be fine…even if I’m in my seventies and have lung issues.

“Oh,” the other mind points out. “You’re a perfect candidate, not only for contracting the virus, but dying from it.”

Great! I think and head to Target for more hand sanitizer.

I read an article by a man who had the virus and said it wasn’t that bad. That was the headline, at least, but as I continued to read about his 103 degree fever and two week hospital stay, I wasn’t reassured. Actually, I had a PTSD flashback because it reminded me of how I felt when I had malaria ten years ago. I had a 105 degree fever for many days–let me tell you it wasn’t good.

I decided to do a little more research on the effect of the corona virus because I wanted to be pro-active. One thing I read is that medications may become in short supply. That’s because many of our medications are made in China (who knew) where factories have been closed down and transportation cut back. So I decided to refill as many of our prescriptions as I could. That was easy. Hopefully there won’t be a problem, but I still have the medication for 3 months.

An issue that is already coming up is the hugging, kissing, shaking hands dilemma. I faced this two years ago when recovering from pneumonia. I didn’t want to be rude, but I was vulnerable to any infection and my lungs weren’t functioning well, as it was. I got good advice from people whose lungs were also not at 100%. One friend told me she bumps elbows with people instead of knuckles. Another told me to hold a glass of wine in one hand and an appetizer in the other at a cocktail party. “Then you shrug and say sorry when they zero in for a handshake,” she explained.

I think it’s important not to be Chicken Little. The sky is not falling. We’ll be okay. Meanwhile I hear my husband on the phone with his cousin. “Worst case scenario,” he chortles, “is our kids get their inheritance early.”

Happy Valentine’s Day

I fell deeply in love with Valentine’s Day on the day my mother let me buy a box of Valentines for my classmates in third grade. My love affair with February 14 had started in first grade when our teacher handed out red and pink construction paper, Elmer’s glue, and scissors. But the cute little cartoon Valentines in the box stole my heart. You can download them from your computer now, but it isn’t the same as going to the drug store and buying the exact box you want.

In my elementary school, if you gave a Valentine to one person, you had to give them to everyone. I still remember that in sixth grade, Barry Reed didn’t give me one. I can’t tell you why he chose not to, but I felt so hurt. I still feel chagrined when I think about it. Back then, it fed on my low self esteem. Not that I hold a grudge, but I really never talked to him again…even when he was seated in front of me in Sophomore English. For the whole year, I ignored him. Instead, I chose to talk to Jimmy Hendrix who was on my left.

Another Valentine favorite of mine through the years is the box of Sweetheart candies. My mother, ahead of her time, didn’t allow us sugar…except for these little sweeties. Here’s the history behind these heart-shaped messaging candies. They are actually the descendants of NECCO candies, which were the offspring of lozenges created by pharmacist and inventor Oliver Chase. In 1866, his brother suggested they print “love messages” on the candy for Valentine’s Day. In 1901, they became heart shaped. In today’s world, messages include: TEXT ME.

There are many legends about who Saint Valentine actually was and how February 14 became associated with romance. It seems that Valentine was a popular name during the Roman Empire so it could have been one of the many early Christians martyred at the time. The story I liked was about Valentinus, who secretly married Christian couples. He was ordered beheaded by Claudius II. If you’re ever in Ireland, you can go to Dublin’s Whitefriar Street Carmelite Church to see a relic of Saint Valentine and a shrine to him. Many people do make this pilgrimage to pray for finding true love.

My husband has a mixed record on Valentine’s Day. One year he gave me a diamond and sapphire heart—I treasure it to this day. Other years, there’s been nothing or worse, wilting flowers from the grocery store. If it’s the thought that counts, either he is a loser or I am. One year we were in Africa on safari. Moe didn’t even think to bring a card but our friend Earl brought his wife, two. Moe tried to buy the second one, but Earl refused. Neither has ever lived it down.

I admit that I love greeting cards. February, especially in Seattle where I lived until I was 45, is a very dreary month. Valentines brightened the days. I’ve always given my grandkids a Valentine and a box of Sweethearts. Now that three are in college, I still send them Valentines, with a little spending money included. It’s an opportunity to say “I love you” in the middle of winter without being grandmother mushy. They like the Sweethearts too.

Plastic Promises

Here’s another thing on my mind that I’ve been meaning to share to get it off my desktop. I deeply care about the environment.

I know plastic is terrible but I do like my bottle of water when I walk. I’ve never found a substitute that works as well for me. Count me guilty on that count. So, I try to find other ways to make up for my plastic habit.

I don’t use plastic bags in the grocery store.

Also, I no longer buy detergent or anything in big plastic containers. These are two things I’ve done. Any more suggestions?