As I Recall It

We’ve talked before about losses we’ve all experienced because of COVID; loss of security, loss of food security, loss of jobs, loss of family and friends, and the loss of regular schedules for school. It’s a lot.

Many people have recovered well from COVID, the variant, kids are back at school, many folks are back to work, donations are being secured for those food insecure this holiday. The one loss that cannot be regained is the loss of our family and friends.

The Babe and I lost three men friends this year. One was from COVID. Our table at the VFW has fewer occupied chairs. We have two more widows sitting with us for a total of three. I’m the only married woman left. There were three of us. We deeply miss Nugent and Lenny. They were buddies; when Nugent needed his nails trimmed, Lenny would take him to the Nail Salon, and he said they had “toe-ectomies.” Lenny had a way with stories. They always pointed to him as the hero. They might end with him telling you to go to hell. They might end with him declaring “Fix! Fix!” He usually got the girl in the end, during the summer of love when he was a life guard at Peony Park.

Regardless of who got the girl, Nugent had a good friendship with Lenny. He had one with the Babe, too, but it was a more professional one. Nugent had a fabulous bar in his family room, and it was always perfectly stocked. He had great stories, and they were told masterfully. We miss him. He was quieter than Lenny, but every once in awhile, he’d release a thought and crack us all up. A nice, nice man.

Today, I read the small book our friend Rick Tiger wrote, “As I Recall It.” It’s a little book that recalls some pretty significant events in his life. He is modest about his success. He is modest about his talent. He is humble about his beginnings. He makes it clear he and his siblings had deep love from their mother and didn’t want for much of things of the heart. They knew they were loved, they knew they all had to help, they knew they had to behave. And they did that most of the time.

I love the segment where he admitted he and one sister fought over most everything. He, however, knew she was being bullied. And he took care of it. His taking care of it landed him in the principal’s office often. He told his truth and being called to the office was the extent of the punishment. I love that he told about that. It explains his deep love for his family; his wife Joyce, their daughters, and their Grandbabies. What a rich life he describes!

Many things make Rick’s family and friends miss his spirit, smile, and simplicity. He was an honest lover of his wife, Jesus, and Louisiana. Just listen to the words, the piano, the voice. The fog keeping you from leaving, having a cup of coffee while you wait it out, the bourbon sunsets, lose a friend; the saints come marching in. It’s a love song to his state, and it makes me want to travel there to see what he describes. It’s beautiful, to put it mildly. Someday, I hope to have the skill putting words together he had.

I miss Rick for the instant friendship we had. He wrote songs that described times in everyone’s life. Falling down and out of love. Whiskey and Holy Water. The Good Side of the Bar. He was as down to earth as your best friend. He valued everyone. He was a person you weren’t embarassed to ask to pray for you or yours. Every time the Babe had a procedure the last five years, I’d ask Rick to pray for him. He did, without reservation. And he’d text me and ask for updates afterwards. A humble, honest man. What a treasure to have had a friend like this.

I’m grateful for all three of these fine friends of ours. Without knowing them, our lives would have been quieter, smaller, and we would have had fewer laughs. We wouldn’t have had beautiful music to tell our stories, and listen to the wisdom Rick had. I’m grateful to still have the gift of all his CD’s, autographed, and his short book. All autographed.

Thanks for the memories, Rick!

The folks at the VFW Post 2503 are disappointed we won’t be able to have Rick back again next year. Word spread quickly about how much fun it was that night. He sat at a table with all of us and talked for about a half an hour before he started singing. Hugs were exchanged, and we all made new friends. Thanks, Rick and Joyce. Joyce, know there are lots of others thinking of you and your family during this holiday week. May the angels surround you with comfort and love. Take care of yourself, and kiss those grandbabies! They cure everything. Folks, Rick’s music is available for gift giving this season. And so is his book. I can hear his voice in the words. What a great storyteller. I do wish we could have had a song-writing session next summer. It was something we talked about, and I could have learned so much from him. Songs are stories set to music. You know how I love great stories.

Thanks for reading today. Keep your loved ones close; we just never know. Make memories this week. Remember good ones, too. See you tomorrow!

p.s. I made a major boo-boo yesterday. Misspelled a word in my title. Oh well. Sorry! Being human, I think it will happen from time to time. Take care, be safe out there!

All Hallows’ Eve

So the other day when I was at the doctor’s office, he asked if I was giving out treats or not. I said I hadn’t decided yet. He told me they weren’t going to. He said it’s a perfect super spreader of COVID. When you think about it, he’s right. I’ve decided not to pass out any candy, then no one can pass things to us, either. It makes sense in this time of COVID.

Tomorrow is my big day, I’ll start writing 1,667 words a day for the whole month of November. I think it should be attainable. I’m already writing blogs a couple days ahead, then scheduling when to publish them. I love that about Word Press. The only thing is I still need to manually publish to my Jewell Publishing LLC page and my personal page, Kathy Jewell Raabe. It is all ok, at least I’ll pre-schedule the daily blogs, leaving more time for my novel. It’ll take a bit to put my mind back in the story, but we’ll get there.

When we were kids, it was perfectly safe to go out on Halloween, around your neighborhood, and collect candy from every house in the neighborhood. There were a couple houses that were pretty scary, and no one knew them well at all. We avoided that house like the plague. The old nuns told us we needed to dress like the saints, maybe our patron saint, it possible. We were told to especially avoid dressing in devil costumes. They may have even told us it was sinful to do so. Nothing could glorify Satan like the red devil costume.

Our costumes were pretty basic. For many years, my older brother, who was rather small in stature, wore a purchased skeleton costume. It had a hooded face mask that was cloth, and eye holes cut. We hated those plastic masks since we both wore glasses. Couldn’t see a thing through the fog! We had a box of old costumes from Mom’s sisters. An angel smock in white, all sorts of sashes, etc. My kids used many of those, too. Grandma sewed them and they were sturdy. I suppose I gave them to Goodwill after my kids were finished with them.

I’ve told my Halloween horror story many times. Here it goes again. In 1975, when I was very pregnant with my second child Nicholas, we lived in an old neighborhood, on a hill. Most of the neighbors we knew lived down the hill, where there were long staircases up the hill to the houses, then the houses had at least 6 – 10 steps up to the porches and front doors. Did I mention there were fences between many of the yards, and you couldn’t cut across the yards? My Frankie was just four years old and very shy. I held his hand up all 10,000 steps, down them, then up the next 10,000 steps . . . well, you get the picture. I was 24 years old and in good shape. I prayed not to have a Halloween baby all night. He wasn’t born for another week, November 7. What a relief! Gosh, he’ll be 46 next week. Where does the time go?

The days are pretty chilly now and look to be all week. It’s probably time to bring in the outdoor furniture, and batten down the hatches. More evenings by the fireplace, which is our favorite. So relieved we feel better and don’t have any lasting effects from COVID. We have some friends who have lung issues and memory/other issues relating to impatience, general personality changes, and some balance issues. We are very fortunate. More blessings.

On the Keto front of my life, I’ve done a little back-sliding. Quit doing squats and was careless with eating, so I gained 5 pounds. I’m back at it, before it turns into 10, 20, 30, 40, or 50. That is where people get in trouble. I’ll be too busy to think about snacks during November.

Once we’re finished here, I’m putting my plans into a 3-ring binder to get organized for tomorrow. Each chapter will have a divider, along with notes. Part of the writing has to take you where it goes. The outline/plan/scene descriptions help get you there. I believe it’s a combination of being a pantster (one who writes by the seat of their pants) and an outliner. My book coach, Sam Tyler, helped me see how much easier it was to outline. It lends a structure I didn’t have before.

My first NaNoWriMo in 2019 saw me crank out 40,000 words and I was ready to send it to someone to edit, print, and call it good. I believe most folks who do that don’t find success. I learned so much from Sam and from study on my own I cannot believe it. Sure, I’ll go back and see if I can resurrect what I wrote. Maybe there were too many characters to do them all justice. I went down a path where two brothers were in a moral/physical/and life struggle. One told the other he would kill him if he ever heard of him hurting another character. Truthfully, it scared me. I may need to talk with someone about that. I just find it interesting, and wonder where and how that conflict would have resolved itself. You almost never know what path you will find yourself on when you go the pantster way. I am probably now a Planning Pantster.

Friends, I hope you each find abundance in your lives during this Autumn Harvest season. The colors are so beautiful this time of year. I remember reading stories in our Grand School Literature class about Harvest. Living in Nebraska my whole life, I’m a city girl, but I live in the country now, sort of. Our little town of 4,000 + is seeing a building boom in the last five years. Many housing divisions are set to begin, a large chain grocery store, and several retirement centers are touting their future location. Something for everyone! Building homes, schools, community recreation areas are all great signs. My hope is they really build a new library in our neighborhood. It will be perfect for us (especially ME!).

Be careful out there tonight with your little goblins. I hope you all stay warm enough! Have fun, and we’ll see each other tomorrow! Be Kind.

Randomness on a Friday

Meetings last night and this morning led to the Babe and I having lunch out today. It was nice to just sit and be with each other. We both feel better, and I’m having another good day today. I’m so grateful to feel good again; it felt like forever since I did. I think that’s part of the COVID brain-fog. It took awhile to clear. The difference is so vast, I can hardly describe it. The headache is intermittent now, but nothing big.

We’re planning on a crowd for Veterans Day at the VFW Post 2503 in Omaha, Nebraska. If any Veteran is having difficulties with what’s going on around them, we’d love to have them come see us during the week of Veterans Day. We will have resources available for you to use, and an ear to listen. We have many friendly people who would be glad to share your story. The camaraderie of Veterans always amazes me. They have their own language, their own way to communicate, and their own way to keep in touch with each other. It’s a gift to me, being allowed to sit with them and witness their exchanges.

I’m signing up for NaNoWriMo again this year. I skipped last year, but participated two years ago. What fun it was! I am starting to gather my things together, and make sure nothing bothers my MoJo while I write 50K words. It should make a great dent on the novel. It’s fun looking at the plan and gearing up for it again. I’d love to get a week’s worth of blogs pre-written, and not need to be concerned about them. We’ll see how it goes.

Pre-COVID, I had a drawing on December 1. Every day, if people commented, they could leave their contact info, and were entered into a drawing for $50. I’m thinking of doing it again. What do you think? Shall we do it again? With more followers, that could be a cool thing. I’d love to get a bunch of people. What do you say? It could be a lot of fun. Comment your opinion below.

The whole world must have been off work and school today. The sports bar we went to for lunch was beyond packed. Usually, you only see that many people on a Saturday. After being quarantined because the Babe and I had COVID, we were home again for about three weeks. It seemed like forever this time. We talked a lot during that time, and shared how odd we felt, not knowing what to expect. We remembered how life was during the Cuban Missile Crisis; Cuba threatened to launch. President Kennedy told them to think better of doing that. Our Catholic school prayed the rosary in front of the Virgin Mary statue in each classroom, and we learned we’d be gone in a puff of smoke should they launch. Our neighborhood was only twelve miles from the then Strategic Air Command. God Help Us All!

While there is still the danger of a missile or drone attack, we have to absorb it as a risk of living in this world. Sure, something could happen. But it might not, too. I’m betting on not. Hoping the world continues on long past my grandchildren’s lives. Be positive. It’s the only way. Thanks for reading today. See you tomorrow!

Forgiveness is a Process.

There is a saying about Irish Alzheimer’s. It’s when you forget everything but the grudges. BOOM!

Yes, I’m proud of my Irish heritage. Although we have a reputation for being deep in the drink, we don’t have more alcoholics than other ethnic groups. It’s something all of us heard growing up, and the Italians were the Mafiosa, The Polish were, well. Mentally challenged. The Scottish and Jewish were stingy. We all believed the half-truths that kept our ethnic groups apart just like religion does. The Irish Catholic Church was in one neighborhood, the Polish Catholics in another, the Italian Catholics, yet another. We based segregation on not only ethnicity, but religion to boot.

And we were segregated. My mother is 92 years old, and her parents thought ill of Italians; none of her sisters or her could date Italian “Mama’s Boys.” Mom told me once if Grandpa Bobell was alive, I wouldn’t have been allowed to marry the Croatian I married. My German Grandpa was very much hateful towards the Croatians. They divided the country after WWII, and they disappeared with the Slavic nations. Croatians had darker skin than Germans, and there was a prejudice about that, too. Crazy world, isn’t it?

I find it pretty interesting to read about the history of Omaha, Nebraska. My family grew up there, and so did my brothers and I. My dad lived within a mile of where he grew up, attending the same Catholic Church he did for his entire lifetime. That’s pretty amazing. Except for that stint in Europe and the one in Korea, courtesy of the United States Army, his world seemed pretty small. I can imagine the prayers of a young man, 19 years old and with the Medical Corps, praying to God to get him home safely, I’m sure he had PTSD. He had to, with what he witnessed. My dad was the most forgiving person I knew; he always told me to give people the benefit of the doubt. After the second time they double-cross you, there is a pattern and you shouldn’t trust them anymore. Good advice. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

Forgiving someone isn’t a one and done thing. Some hurts are so deep, so soul-piercing, you need to heal before you can even think of forgiving. Sometimes, it’s just not a wise thing to do. Yes, some folks don’t deserve your forgiveness. That isn’t the point. Forgiveness is something you do for yourself, not for others. Grudges are heavy to carry around. They take all of your energy. Wanting to forgive is not the same as willing to forgive. There in lies the rub.

Logic tells me I need to forgive. Emotion tells me, “After what they did??” Logic tells me being human makes us imperfect. Emotion tells me to hit the bricks, the quicker the better. My Catholic upbringing tells me if I want God to forgive me, I need to forgive others. You got me there, big time. God doesn’t do things He doesn’t want to. Humans have to sometimes.

That said, forgiving is Divine. It doesn’t mean you forget. That’s a very important lesson we don’t learn. At least I didn’t as a kid. It is foolish to give someone who deeply hurt you the same access to you afterwards. Caution and common sense must prevail. Only in a second chance can you learn if this is habitual behavior or if it was a onetime occurrence.

I’ve been in work groups with people in them who knew more about systems, etc. than the boss did. They usually were curt and rude to co-workers. But management allowed it. Not a friendly work environment. It stinks to be new on a team and be treated like you’re stupid by a co-worker. Once I worked with a woman who towered over everyone. She would stand above your workspace, hitting her fist into her free hand while she told you how to do something she didn’t think you did correctly. How hostile! I’m glad those days are long gone. Bullies aren’t acceptable, never have been.

Being retired, I get to choose which groups of people I associate with. I love like-minded people. People who want to make the world a better place, who want to help others along the way. Things flow better when you’re united by a common cause. I’m enjoying the friendships I’ve built with other Nebraska Writers. It’s mostly online, and that’s ok. They’re a wealth of information, and I hope to sit with them and listen to them talk. I learn so much by listening. My dad always told me, “If you want to know what’s going on, sit and listen. Keeping your mouth shut and your ears open, and you’ll know as much as the others know.”

Dad’s advice worked when dealing with executives or homeless Veterans. Respecting people is never something I want to overlook. It’s important, no matter what their position is. And sometimes we need to forgive things that people are not sorry for. That’s a genuine test of your character and will. No, you don’t want to forgive. The person isn’t sorry. They’ll never apologize. Be the bigger person. Free yourself from carrying that grudge. It’s amazing. I applaud you.

This is a cloudy, chilly fall day outside. I’m listening to our friend Rick Tiger’s music. I’m so sad COVID took him way too soon. His wife, Joyce has so many beautiful love songs he wrote with her in mind. They’re as lovely as she is. The words in my head make me imagine the way he would sing, and the look of love he had for his bride. One song talks about it if were his last day on earth, he’d ask the Lord if he could wait outside the pearly gates and wait for her. Joyce, he is waiting for you. Please don’t rush. But he’ll be there, waiting. What a lovely man he was. He still is, in our memories. I enjoyed his outlook so much. So hard to believe there will not be a Rick Tiger night again at the VFW. It was fun.

After having COVID these past two weeks, I woke this morning finally feeling human again. Maybe it’s the fact the headache finally subsided. It was just a dull ache. The brain fog is lifting, I think. I’ve thought of Rick so much during this illness. I was lucky to not get pneumonia. We know someone hospitalized with COVID pneumonia right now. It is a situation we’re praying over, intently. All I can do it pray. For those who lost loved ones, and who will lose loved ones. Just know we care. We forgive you. And we ask God to be good to you. Take care out there. Let’s see each other again tomorrow.

It’s Very Real

Politics, conspiracy theories, and hatred aside, I can tell you COVID is real. The Babe and I both have it and a couple family members have it too. Some of us had the vaccination, some didn’t. This is not a discussion about all of that.

What this is about is the whole other gambit of things; how does it feel physically, and emotionally? We know some people who lost their battles with this disease. My heart is aching for their surviving families now. The nurse who tested me at THINK last Tuesday was excellent. I mentioned not knowing where I caught this, and concern if I have passed it on. She said, “We don’t need to be about blame here. It can be from anywhere. It can go anywhere. She was a hundred percent correct. Many folks are about blame and causes. The Babe said, “It’s probably just a matter of time.” That could be true, too.

It seems I blamed my late allergy flare/asthma flare on the Cottonwood tree. It must have been COVID. The congestion, the coughing, the fatigue. Trouble is, it behaves like other chronic illnesses. Body aches? Yes, I’ve got them all the time. How are we supposed to know the difference? We’re not. That’s our doctor’s job. I feel pretty foolish, actually. Never thought I’d catch it. I’m grateful to God we had the immunizations. It could have been so much worse. The key is keeping your oxygen level up. Mine was under 90 until I consciously inhaled and exhaled to use the full extent of my lungs. It came up to 93 then. I was breathing more shallow simply because it kept me from coughing. Not a good thing to do, apparently.

The most bothersome part of this, at least for me, is the congestion, and the drainage that shifts into overdrive when lying down. It just doesn’t let up. No wonder the lungs become so compromised. What a horrible experience for those who can’t breathe. I’ve done my share of praying during the past week. The brain fog that goes with it is nothing new for me, either. I threw in the towel last week and said I took a few days off blogging to just take a break. Today, I thought I’d better at least try to do something normal, so here we are.

Today I’m not sure if I truly am better or if it’s still too close to call. Seriously. I can’t tell. I just don’t want to fall out of the habit of writing every day. That’s the driving factor. Are we afraid? A little. I wouldn’t say I’m sure we’re going to be fine and mean it, because we may not be. I can only have faith we will. I know I’m tired of this illness and all that goes with it. The media, the scares, the reality of learning it has you in its hold. Sobering thoughts.

I’ve struggled with sharing this information at all; sure, it’s deeply personal. Many will think I should have kept it to myself. I think in the grand scheme of things, being honest is what I’m about, and I think if nothing else, there could be some level of learning here. Honestly, we did not think we’d come down with COVID. We’ve been faithful to being careful; we’ve followed the rules to the letter. Sure, we’re as tired as everyone else of the masks, the news, the protocol. This pandemic is not going anywhere soon; it’s just a cold, hard fact in all our lives. We need to deal with this in our lives the best we can and let the world continue on.

Upon hearing the news of General Colin Powell passing away from COVID complications, I am devastated. I’m devastated when a regular person loses their life to this illness; as well as a well-known person, someone I deeply admire. I think Powell and Condoleezza Rice would have made a difference in America as President and Vice President. This terrible disease cares not who it takes or leaves behind. It makes all of us humble; it makes us all pray, and I pray we come out on the other side of it. I feel optimistic about our recovery; things are good so far. Of course, things can always go wrong; no one has a crystal ball.

I’

m still going to blog this week. I need to get some sense of normal back. I think we can place a pickup order for groceries and such. We’re sure we’re coming out on the right side of this. I’m going to still plan working on the novel. I’m short on concentrating much this week (again). That’s part of the charm of COVID and I hope it gets better. In the meantime, be positive as you can, and know it will all be ok. It has to be. See you tomorrow!

Another Fab Friday

Well, it finally happened, thanks to Jimmy Weber. I’ve finally joined the world of streaming music. His wonderful new album is available wherever you stream music. I’ve never streamed. I’ve clung to the CD format since – well, a long time. So here I am, finally, in this century as far as my music goes. Thanks, Jimmy! It doesn’t seem to work very well playing music on my Chromebook while blogging. I’ll have to try it later when I’m using the laptop. It’s got more “power,” as they used to say on “Home Improvement.”

On the COVID front, Douglas County Health Department in Omaha, Nebraska opened their website this morning at 9 a.m. to make appointments for the elderly. I registered Mom for next week. It should be a good experience. They have accommodations such as wheelchairs for those who need it. I got one for Mom. She’s always insisted on walking herself, but the time has come for sensibility. Saving her energy is key right now.

I’m closing in on the end of the month, and with that, I’ve decided February 1, 2021, I need to get back to work on my novel, “The Saving of Katie Fitzgibbons.” It’s time I got busy again. You’ll be the first to know how it’s going!

The Wal-mart pick up line was pretty long this morning. I waited a bit, but it still beat going through the store and all the people who appeared to be there. What a godsend it is! I have yet to convince Mom of that, but it’s ok. Someday we’ll probably shop for her. Getting out of the house is what she needs now. She’s ready to warmer weather so she can walk on her patio daily. It’s to slippery right now. Bless her heart.

Call your elderly friends and family. They are needing a bright spot in their days right now. If they have limitations in movement or with vision and hearing, the days are twice as long for them. We’ll all get there some day, some of us sooner than others. Be kind now, and someone will return your favor later on.

Thank you for reading today. Don’t forget about my friends Jimmy Weber and Billy McGuigan. They both have some great new music written during the COVID quarantine. It’s bound to help you feel better. Music does that. It heals the souls. See you again tomorrow!

Where Did Wednesday Go?

Thursday, December 3, 2020. It’s about 4 p.m. and I honestly lost Wednesday. After getting injections in both my knees and feeling kind of punk last night and into today, here we are. I’m caught up with the minor sewing project for a friend. This weekend, I believe we’ll see some Christmas decorations in our future. I’m getting to feeling a little festive, we only have one gift left to purchase, and that’s for our grandson in Maryland. It’s hard to know what to get for a thirteen-year-old young man. Next week, I’ll send gifts to the grandkids in Colorado. I wish so hard we could see them. Not yet. COVID is rearing its ugly head still. Someday, we’ll have a normal world. Not a new normal, but a normal one.

Hope keeps us alive and thriving. I hope sincerely we have normal again. I don’t want to forget the good things about life before COVID. At our stage in life, we were enjoying our time immensely and have endless discussions about many things. Life is wonderful. There are not enough hours in the day to accomplish everything we really want to do. Not travel, not feats of adventure, just simple, everyday life. We talk a lot about how our parents sacrificed for all of us, and about we never knew we were “poor.” We were the same throughout our neighborhoods, and as kids, we didn’t know better.

I believe the sacrifices of our parents were proof of their generosity, and their hope to provide us with the magic and wonder of Christmas. I used to love to make gifts for people. One year, I made seventeen tied blankets for various neighbors, friends, family, others. I’ve made quilts for people, embroidered Christmas pillowcases for the Grandkids, and want to continue doing things like this. I may make them and sell them at a craft show, because not everyone likes handcrafted items. I’ve crocheted afghans for people, one year, everyone received one. Nieces, nephews, everyone. I enjoyed it so much. It’d be wonderful to have that type of Christmas again. Giving from the heart is what I enjoy the most.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

I think it will be harder this year with Christmas since the churches are not holding services. It was always a big deal, attending a Catholic grade school, after fourth grade, almost all the boys were altar boys, and all the girls were in the choir. We practiced those expected duties until we were blue in the face to assure near perfection. No excuses. No missing rehearsals. No one questioned.

Come Christmas Eve, at about 10:15, my brother Tom and I would walk the three and a half blocks up F Street in South Omaha, and arrive in time to take our appointed stations. The organ played Christmas Carols solo for a while, then the choir sang with the organ. They blessed me to play the organ after proving I could. I didn’t take lessons from the nun who taught piano; I took from a neighbor lady. I will never forget our enormous church, packed to the gills by worshippers, the smell of incense, and Monsignor chanting in Latin. Brother Tom and I practiced the Latin just to make sure we could both pronounce it,

We sang many of the songs in Latin at first. By the time I graduated from eighth grade, it was all English. Amazing times they were. I still love Christmas music. Come to think of it, it’s time to gather up those CDs for my music of the day to create by. Note to self: Don’t forget Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Michael Buble, Harry Connick, Jr., and all the others. There are a lot of memories in those old songs. Good memories, worth keeping.

I have to say if you need a gift for a laptop user, get one of the laptop ergonomically correct holders I bought from Amazon. I swear by it, it’s improved my neck pain 50% in the couple weeks I’ve had it. Worth the $60.

Love this – it really helps my neck pain and headaches.

After an unplanned day off, know I missed visiting with you. I cannot imagine performers, musicians, small theater actors, and others how they miss their people. Yes, I hope things pick up for them. I’m going to try to not miss visiting with you again. Be Kind, Be Careful, Be Courteous, and Be Safe out there. You don’t want to pass the virus to someone who may not make it out the other side. Thank you for reading, I’ll see you again tomorrow.