Not the Christmas Post.

 

This last year of having to sit at home hiding from Covid is almost over and I am sure we are all hoping that the end is near. JG and I are now double shot and eligible for the booster, if vaccine were available At present it is not. Luckily, our neck of the woods is amazingly free of cases - as the count goes; our Health Unit is said to have the highest proportion of vaccinated people in the province. Anyway, we are now seeing our daughter and friends in person and are actually booked for a Christmas Party with Dinner. I confess to being rather excited about this dissipation.

 And worrying about Christmas. The YD is hoping to fly home from her far, far away job, Covid protocols permitting. She has not been home for two years. And here is this new variant looking to close us down again. Even for those who are fully vaccinated. What impels the ‘anti-vaxers’ is absolutely opaque to me. I remember the polio restrictions from my early childhood, and do not recall any discussion about not getting the polio protection when it became available. I loaded my toddlers into the family car and roared off to the doctor to get their measles vaccine, as soon as I could. Flu shots? Every year. And I cannot remember anyone making any fuss about any of these benefits. But the Covid vaccines? Eep. Poison. Masks are The End of Freedom. What? It makes no sense to me at all.

 Maybe I just have too much time to brood about stuff. But it is something to do while cooking dinner, I guess. If I could figure out some way of having my meals cooked for me, preceded by being offered a menu with plenty of choice, I would be some thrilled. A friend of mine just moved into an apartment in a seniors’ building where that is the case and I confess to the sin of covetousness. It is just a wistful, passing thought, though. I would miss being out here with the flower-chomping deer and seed-stealing squirrels. And the neighbourhood turkeys, five of whom can be seen out back most afternoons. They are big toms, but they are safe from me as I am sure they are extremely tough. (Tough, tough guys. No Christmas Feast for you, decked out with dressing and gently steaming.)

 There is very light snow sifting down outside. It does not seem to be accumulating, a bit surprising for the end of November, but hey, global warming is here. I guess that is not as funny as all that, thinking of the messes in BC and in Newfoundland/Labrador this last while. When I think of what it is going to cost to bring the infrastructure in the former up to new weather standards, I cringe. Has to be done, though, if we are to remain a country. In fact, I wonder about that sometimes as well. (Probably when I am on to washing up after dinner.) Will the changes to the climate with resulting changes in infrastructure, ways and standards of living, all that, allow Canada to remain one country from sea to sea to encroaching sea?

 Our grandkids are going to have a rough ride, for sure. I guess the best any one grandparent can do is help to make sure the coming generation is as healthy and educated as it is possible to make them. And that includes, in my opinion, getting them vaccinated and back into schools, in person, as soon as humanly possible. Nothing else is fair to them. Nothing less is fair to all of us.

 I wrote this in November and it is now the fourteenth of December. So it goes. Today is sunny, and it is forecast to stay that way for the next several days. Long enough, I hope, for me to get my shopping done. This post has been sitting here for a couple of weeks, for various reasons, but I do need to report that we have a skiff of snow left from last week’s dump and that JG is attaching a new, shiny red snowblower to his tractor. Expect unseasonal warmth and no snow. He may run up and down the laneway anyway, new toy whirring. Or, it could snow like mad and he will get to play with it. It is December in Lanark, after all.

 Yikes. It is December in Lanark and I am not ready for it to be Christmas. Not ready. Not motivated. Not organized. (Oh, shut up, Lou!)  Maybe tomorrow.