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| Norma A. Boeckler |
We had storm upon storm, where - once again - moving the garbage barrels required plans, cunning, and mud shoes. But yesterday the storm mass moved after dawn. The sun broke out to warm and dry the earth. The birds sang and scouted for food. They feed in the rain, if they know it will be lasting. But they all come out in the sunshine for the bugs, wriggling worms and larvae, and the seeds.
Most trends are fading when they seem to be at their peak. When I heard Governor Cuomo crying out the Masonic distress signal, "Is there no help for a widow's son?" (I love my mother. I love my state. My state loves me.) - I knew it was over. He needed to establish his credentials for his 2024 presidential run. He loves his mother! Even mobsters love their mothers, and his dad was long identified as the goto guy for the Mob, before Mario the Pious assumed state office. St. Mario defended abortion on demand at Notre Dame and denounced capital punishment as "murder."
For the ordinary citizen, the Masonic distress call is, "Name a store with paper products left!" I discussed that with Pat and John yesterday and brought back 25% of the entire supply from the largest Walmart in Arkansas - one roll of paper towels. It was received with gratitude. I also had a bag of white and sweet potatoes for their roast.
Notes of optimism and hope are sounding in the news. Medicine works against Corona, a virus discussed in a scientific journal in 2007. People will return to work. Paper products will be less precious as hoarding diminishes.
Before Sassy takes me out for a walk, I will pour out some birdseed on both barrel lids. The starlings and grackles will try to beat the squirrel to the supply. Yesterday the compromise was clear. Mr. Squirrel got one barrel lid - the birds got the other. I figured natural enemies in Congress would work out a deal, too.
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