previous months: 8/14/2020 -- 12/31/2020 

1/1/2021   1/5/2021   1/7/2021   1/16/2021   1/18/2021   1/19/2021   2/2/2021  
2/3/2021   2/14/2021   2/16/2021  

beginning   latest entry


2021. I think we can see the brighter future, but there's a lot of haze to get through. I thought it would be good to get this year started out... "properly":

In the past, as reported in this blog, we've had a family "joke of the year" contest. The jokes started with generic puns we would share while at Brenda and John's for the Christmas holidays, but through the years the puns began to center around Christmas carols as befitted the season (see here and here for examples). In recent years, we've started to run out of holiday songs to use, so the contest has more-or-less fallen by the wayside. Plus it's been more difficult to get the whole family together -- kids growing up and living in far-flung(!) places, travel becoming more difficult. Paradoxically, though, the pandemic showed us how we could again all gather to share things like the "joke of the year". Zoom!

I thought and thought, and I identified a seasonal tune we had not used before. During our virtual family zoom-gathering, this is what I said:

There were no other "joke of the year" entries. I WON! YAY! HAPPY 2021! And off we go...


Today was a dark and grey day, with wind and rain coming up the Sound from the south. I was driving over to a dental appointment in Freeland, and along one stretch of the road I had a feeling of what it was to be there a few weeks ago, just before Christmas, shortly after sunset. It was dark, yes, but the holiday lights were showing. Happy anticipation was in the air -- I was living it again. Then I imagined it during the spring, the time yet to come.

These all intersected during that short traverse of the road. Time became four-dimensional. I hope I can live all these good moments again, like that.


Wow, so much has happened since my last post. Wednesday was a total wash-out; all Jill and I did was watch and listen to the horrible events unfolding in Washington DC. Daniel called in on the phone and we put it next to the computer so he could hear what was happening. Finnish TV wasn't carrying 'live' reports, and Daniel doesn't get CNN in Helsinki. Plus I think we wanted to be together as a family (Lian and Itay were texting the whole time, too).

It was all incredible, and not in a good way. Like many, I really hope this serves as that proverbial wake-up call to show how far down we've gone. Today was a better day, though.


The Trump horrorshow of a presidency is finally winding down, and it is still amazing to me the level of incompetence therein. The COVID-19 vaccine 'roll-out' has been a total disaster. Many more people will die because of the morons still running things in the White House. Biden's presidency can't happen soon enough.

I am worried, though. Tomorrow has been targeted as a day of protest (i.e. insurrection) by the insane Trump supporters. I am seriously concerned about the level of violence that may happen. Many of my (probably former) evangelical/conspiracy-theory childhood friends are really 'jonesin' for a holy war. This is evil.


This past weekend I noticed that the daylight is getting longer. Driving over to get our pizza on Saturday night, I could see the silhouettes of the trees against the darkly-glowing blue sky. Just a week ago it would have been almost totally dark at that time. Fortunately there were no violent protests yesterday as I had feared might happen. The inauguration is still several days away. I hope enough of the light will be returned by then.


It is so quiet here. Even with the noise from passing ships, trains, planes. I go outside on our back deck in the morning to watch the sunrise, and the hushed background allows each wave of surf, each bird-call to be precisely placed in the soundscape.

Yesterday I walked down on the beach for the first time in several weeks. The tidal rhythm had precluded walks during the day. At one point, the sun came out from behind the clouds, warm against my face. I drove home with my car window down. It felt like March, but it was still January.


Happy Groundhog's Day! Have we been here before? Classes are moving along, I'm enjoying getting back to Unity, although there is an annoying code-problem on Apple's new OSX ("Big Sur" -- the OS from hell as far as I'm concerned!). We'll figure it out.

It's been rainy and cold here the past week or so. No nice sunrise/sunsets lately, just grey. But with good news: Jill got part one of her vaccine this past weekend! We were lucky, somehow. The news reports had said all COVID-19 vaccines on Whidbey Island had been cancelled because of a shortage in the supply. However, Jill never received a 'cancellation notice' for the time-slot she had selected, and in fact got several reminders to be sure to be there. She took a chance and went in, and sure enough -- vaccine! We're breathing just a teensy bit easier now. It looks like I probably won't qualify for a vaccine until later this Spring, or possibly even Summer. The main criteria is age, the cut-off being 65 (I'm 63, Jill just turned 65). But dang! Myeloma's not a good thing to have with a nasty coronavirus lurking about. I will have to wait. A small bit of forward progression, but life still seems pretty much in stasis. I think we have been here before. We haven't really gone anywhere.


In between classes this afternoon, I went out onto our back porch to sit awhile. It was the first day of sun we've had in several weeks. The sun on my face was warm. Because of the different climate here, it felt like late-March/early-April to me instead of the beginning of February. Every once in awhile, though, a breeze would pick up that carried the cold of winter with it. I sat there, and I thought: "This is what life is like."


Jill made me chocolate banana-cream pie for Valentine's day!!!!!!! I love my Sweetie!!!!!!! Happy Valentines Day!


We got snow here on Whidbey Island! We were literally trapped. Even though we parked our car at the end of our steep drive, we couldn't get up the hill on the main road out of Scachet Head. Priuses do not drive well on snow and ice. It was an odd feeling. This is the first time in my life that I have been someplace that is cut off from the rest of the world. Interesting.

It's all melted now. The sun was out after I ended my Zoom class for the day. The tide was low, so I took a walk down on our beach. The slanting rays of the sun glinted off the smooth sand. The look of it reminded my of post-thunderstorm sidewalks in St. Louis when I was young. I could smell the wet pavement.