256 Renovation of the Heart

Renovation of the Heart    

by Teri Merrill

As we perused the rows of tile and granite, my husband leaned over to me and whispered “I have a headache. Are we almost done?” Here was a man who had successfully managed health care systems for decades, yet an hour into choosing our new kitchen countertops, and he was exhausted.

We were in the middle of renovations for an older ranch house that we had purchased four years earlier and rented out, always with the intention of moving in someday. Or should I say it was always my intention. My husband was never fully on board with what I thought was a brilliant plan.

You see, he loved our “big” house and its 11 years of memory making with our children, relatives, friends, and dogs. He cherished the times we sat on the front porch, wine glasses in hand, watching for the first sign of bats as they emerged on summer nights. We both loved the gardens we planted and maintained, and the ever-changing bulbs, flowers, and bushes that were blooming during three seasons of the year.

I loved that house too. But my North Star is practicality, and as our children grew up and flew the nest, I couldn’t stop hearing the quiet, empty spaces, or noticing the knick-knacks gathering dust, or looking at the stairs with trepidation. All three levels of the house were starting to feel a bit more cumbersome and a lot less comfortable. Not for my husband, though. He’s a creature of habit, and his routine for the past decade was cemented into the foundation of that place.  

The ranch house that we bought had been built in 1980, and very little had been updated since that time. Nevertheless, I could feel the calm emanating from its well-worn hominess. The property is in town, on a hill and next to a woods, and I could imagine us sitting in the backyard, wine glasses in hand, watching for the first sign of bats as they emerged on summer nights.

Despite his misgivings, my husband agreed to the timeline of renovating the house in the fall of 2020, with a move-in date in mid-spring the next year.  Most of the world was in lockdown or homebound due to the pandemic, so renovating a house during this time seemed to be a perfect project for a newly retired professional who used to fill his 24-hour day schedule with 48 hours of work. I figured he would crush our timeline in half with his prior business schedule.  

Every week brought new decisions and “homework” from our contractor, from researching products, to reading customer reviews, to visiting showrooms, and perusing websites. My husband honestly didn’t enjoy the process and left many of the decisions to me, unless it was absolutely necessary to get his buy-in.

That, of course, left me a nervous wreck. We have renovated rooms over the years, but never an entire house. I would wake in the night, going over my tile or ceiling fan or bathroom vanity or flooring choices, only to panic and change everything the next morning. I would talk to our contractor for ideas, but often decisions were just “gut” choices that felt right.

We were lucky that very few purchases were delayed due to the supply chain slowdown. We were very lucky that our contractor brilliantly anticipated decisions and ensured that the project was constantly moving forward, and not sitting stagnant for days and weeks, as so many projects do. We were lucky that our big home sold quickly. We were lucky that we had time and could move many smaller items on our own, so that when the big moving day came, only the large items were left.

Turns out, renovating wasn’t the challenge after all—reshaping our future was. Less than a week after our move, my husband was drinking coffee and walking through the house, taking it all in and commenting on how easy the house is to live in. “You were right,” he acknowledged. “This is a great house.” As my chin hit the floor, I realized even a husband’s heart can be renovated!

Now we are enjoying our beautiful downsized home, which feels perfectly right-sized to us. The gardens in front and the woods at the rear beckon us each day. Oh, and those bats…it’s just about time to bring out the wine glasses and spot the first one of the evening.       

                                               Teri                                     

255

Scared to Get Sick! 
And Just Leave Me Alone!

Obviously, I have been watching too much TV this past year, I order too many things online, and I am becoming more paranoid and reclusive even though masks are off (well, maybe they shouldn’t be with variants of COVID hitting the U.S.).  

Over the past year of COVID-19, I ended up watching some commercials on shows not taped. Frankly, I am getting paranoid about drugs in general – both OTC and prescription. See if these don’t sound familiar to you. Here is a short list of side effects often associated with drugs:

Abdominal pain
Blurred vision
Constipation
Diarrhea
Dizziness
Headaches
Loss of appetite
Memory loss
Palpitations
Problems with coordination
Ringing in the ears
Skin rashes or hives
Swelling of hands or feet
Syncope (loss of consciousness or fainting) [from VeryWellHealth, Feb. 15, 2021}

Specific drugs have their own lists. I thought I would look at Lipitor, a common prescription for the older set:
· constipation,
· diarrhea,
· nausea,
· fatigue,
· gas,
· heartburn,
· headache, and
· mild muscle pain (rxlist.com, July 8, 2021)

Suddenly, I want NO drugs in my system. I have been taking spironolactone for 20 years – since cancer and hair loss. Talking to my dermatologist SOON!
diarrhea and abdominal cramping
nausea and vomiting
high potassium levels
leg cramps
headache
dizziness
drowsiness
itching
irregular menstrual cycles or bleeding after menopause

and then the more serious effects include:

• Allergic reactions. Symptoms can include:
• skin rash
• hives
• fever
• trouble breathing
• swelling of your lips, mouth, tongue, or throat

Electrolyte and/or fluid problems. Symptoms can include:

• mouth dryness
• extreme thirst
• extreme weakness and tiredness
• fast heart rate and dizziness
• not being able to urinate

Dangerously high potassium levels. Symptoms can include:

• muscle weakness
• not being able to move your legs and arms
• extreme tiredness
• tingling or numb feeling in your hands or feet
• slow heart rate

Breast enlargement (gynecomastia). Symptoms can include:
growth of breast tissue in males and females

Severe skin reactions. Symptoms can include:
redness, blistering, peeling or loosening of your skin, including inside of your mouth (medicineplus.gov July 8, 2021)

And along with this worry, I now daily read the obituaries. This, too, causes angst. Too many people we know are gone! I don’t much like old age.

AND along with these worries, I find I am just plain tired of social media. I check Facebook about once a week! Several years ago, it was daily. I used to have a great fear of FOMO = fear of missing out. COVID-19 has made me realize I don’t much care about many things I may be missing. What an old reclusive curmudgeon I have become.

Okay, while I am on a rant today. I did look at my email. Since I got up this morning (it is now 4 p.m.) I have had 36 emails. NOT A SINGLE ONE of them is personal. They are all advertisements dressed up as “we just wanted to let you know” or “you are the lucky ….” Delete all is a fine option. Just because I ordered something from you at Christmas does not mean I need or want to hear from you today. GO AWAY. I will let you know when I WANT YOU….

Thanks for listening. I think maybe I am still a relatively nice person, but I like working at home, I like working on my own schedule, I like being healthy and I want to stay that way. Please quit scaring me from taking an Aleve or two for my arthritic back and my spironolactone so I won’t look like Benjamin Franklin sooner than later.

Stay well, and wear masks when necessary, from a semi-savvy

                    Glenne

254 Guest Blog: My Pandemic Truth

My Pandemic Truth
Guest blog by Teri Merrill

“I haven't seen you in so long. How have you been?" an acquaintance recently asked me at a local grocery store. Her friendly greeting left me speechless. Do I lament on how difficult the pandemic lockdown has been for so many?

Or do I tell the truth? My truth. That stepping back into the world after more than a year didn't feel much different than stepping out of it.

There are those who pined for social engagement during the health crisis of 2020, dreaming of trips not taken and eager to hop on the next plane to anywhere. Well...I'm not one of those people. I much prefer the action-packed lifestyle of a homebody, replete with the risky business of nurturing family, friends, and flora.

During the pandemic, I became like my garden: quietly waiting for the day that I could blossom again, but not at all unhappy where I was rooted. As I watched the hyacinth blooms in late winter give way to the iris and peonies from my VIP garden seating, I marveled at Mother Nature's project-management skills. She washed away the drab and cold of Jack Frost and held fistfuls of buds and sprigs, all the while meticulously tending to her world garden.

Dame Nature puts on quite a show in April and May in the Northern Shenandoah Valley, but those radiant spring bulbs fade as the sun climbs higher in the sky, the days growing longer and hotter. In all my years as a gardener, I have never heard an iris complain when her flowers wrinkle, nor have I noticed a single tear from the peonies as they droop and wither.

Nature understands that we must bloom where we are planted, and when our season is done, it’s time to make our grand exit.

This year, we were treated to Brood X, the 17-year cicada. The first hundred thousand of these small, flying insects to emerge were a wonder to behold, as they dug out from their underground habitat, shed their exoskeletons, carefully climbed nearby trees and began their short, but evidently, sexually vibrant lifespan.

But like the smell of strong perfume in an elevator, cicadas wear out their welcome quickly. Their distinctive sound became annoying and their aviation skills--or lack thereof--even more so, as they smashed into just about anything, or anyone, who moved into their flight path. Even the Secret Service couldn't keep President Biden safe from their errant wings.

The cicadas became the topic of the town, and one couldn’t go anywhere without sharing a story about those who had eaten them (people, dogs, cats!), those who were scared of them, and those who simply sat back and watched the show, knowing they would be far older and hopefully wiser the next time these marvelous insects emerged from their underground havens. As it stands, their time on this earth was only about six short weeks, and they, like the peonies and iris, knew when it was time to leave the stage.

Now the daylilies and hydrangea are wowing the audience, followed by canna lilies, Russian sage, and other garden delights. Each of them stands tall and proud, all of them elegant and regal testaments to the perfect timing, precision, and attention that Mother Nature pays to her creation.

So to answer to the "How-have-I-been" question: "Thankful to be safe and healthy and still gardening."

Teri                                   

253 Dark Side

The Dark Side of 
Five Popular Nursery Rhymes

“Ring around a rosy, a pocket full of poseys…we all fall down.” 

As a young teacher I found this rhyme to be a simple game, a memory device, and a way to teach rhyming words. The whole class participates by holding hands and moving in a circle until the 

words “we all fall down.” Lots of
laughter and then get up and do it again. Even easier than “Duck, Duck, Goose” with its chasing on one person as goose chasing a poor duck.

It seems from a number of sources (cited at the end) that this nursery rhyme is about the black plague of London in the 1660s. One of the first symptoms of the plague was red welts around one’s mouth. The poseys (herbs and flowers) were stuffed in the children’s pockets to cover the smell of their oozing pustules. Falling down meant one died from the plague. Seems hard to believe that this was a game in the 1660s.

Another rhyme from the dark side “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush.” Again, back in the mid-1660s at a women’s prison, the women were exercised by holding hands and circling a mulberry tree until they were so tired that they would willingly go to bed. Not only that but the toxin in mulberry is said to cause nerve damage and hallucinations. Again, another strange story.

Let’s look at “Rock-a-bye Baby.” I wondered why anyone would put a baby in a treetop. It seems that so many babies were born dead or not breathing well, the babies were tied to a tree branch in hopes that the swaying of the branch would make the baby breathe. 

Again, back in the 1600s, it seems the song was in hopes the James II’s (1685-1688) child would die so there would not be a Catholic heir to the throne. Okay, so now we are into politics to sing our babes to sleep.

And why did “Jack and Jill” go up the hill? It seems King Charles I (1645-1649) wanted to change the taxes on liquid measures. Parliament was not happy with their king and this was a particularly easy law to veto. 

By falling down with the bucket of water, Jack had very little water and the tax would be lower. Of course, we all remember our elementary days of wondering if Jill pushed Jack down the hill because of his “behavior.”

Finally, “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary” and her garden. I was shocked to learn that contrary in the 1500s meant what we now call a psychopath. Although the rhyme sounds like a gardening handbook, it was originally directed at Queen Mary I (“Bloody Mary) who executed many non-Catholics.  The flower names supposedly referred to torture methods. Cockleshells removed private parts on men and silver bells were thumbscrews. The pretty maids were all those invited to the executions.

Do we thank Mother Goose for cleaning these rhymes up and putting them to tunes? I like to think the old dark meanings are gone and these are sweet ditties for our babes.

(information from wonderopolis.org, mentalfloss.com/article #55035, commons.Wikipedia.org (May 29, 2021) and Google answers to inquiry of dates of reigning monarchs)

Enjoy your Memorial Day and stay safe. 

                                                     Glenne

282 My dirty little secret

My Dirty Little Secret

It’s almost raining outside. It’s gray and humid, and I am pretending it is a snow day. I have been a slug most of the day. I did make the bed and finished a mystery book. That’s it so far today and it’s four p.m. My phone weather app says it will be raining in two hours and 35 minutes. Okay, good to know. 

Now--this is my dirty little secret. I don’t really care that it is after four o’clock and I have done nothing useful. This is what the pandemic has done for OR to me.

The old me made a to-do list and felt responsible to get everything checked off. I don’t feel that pressure right now. Unless it is an important appointment or a promise I have made, the “to-do” will get done when I doggone feel like doing it or maybe never at all.

Part two of the dirty little secret is that I do not think I am ready to go back to normal with meetings face-to-face. I do not want to regularly feel I have to go to the grocery store for virtuous healthy food. Isn’t pizza just easier? Add a few carrot and pepper slices, and I feel good about dinner. And licking the spoon after you stick it in the peanut butter jar makes a great lunch. I have gotten incredibly lazy.

Rarely do I bother to check social media. Maybe once a week now instead of every day, likely it was several times a day. I love my sweat pants and t-shirts. I do still use lipstick because I don’t like dry lips, but I do not bother to look in the mirror when it is applied. I do need to moisturize because I have dry skin, and, as the kids say, I look ashy. That’s the beauty routine.

Let me say that I do think this past year has been one of unspeakable tragedy and who will know for years what collective physical and mental health problems may arise from COVID -19. We are supposedly seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but some people, besides me, may not be too eager to return to life as it was before the pandemic. I think more people are keeping that to themselves. I thought it might be wise to be brave and print it out there for anyone to see.

Old social habits still seem disconcerting. I am not willing to go back to being around maskless people in close quarters. I have NOT really missed being hugged or kissed on the cheek or patted on the shoulder in greeting or saying goodbye. 

I like social distancing. I think it is smart. I have had one mild runny nose/cold in the past thirteen months. Usually, I have two or three a year. 

I didn’t miss Thanksgiving or Christmas gatherings. I can keep up with the relatives with whom I have connection with a couple of emails or phone calls. Even Zoom. A lot of Zoom this past year!

I wonder: Can you lose your social skills in one year? I fear my skills will be rusty. A good conversation? Hmm? Can I do that anymore? On the phone is different from in-person. I believe man is meant to socialize, to have interactions. None of us separately is as great as the whole. But I have anxiety about it. 

I have put off my teeth cleaning for three months. The poor receptionist finally said: “Call us when you feel ready to come in.” I hope I don’t get some awful gum disease, but I am not ready for someone to put instruments and hands in my face and month. I feel a tiny bit guilty, but not enough to really keep an appointment.

One other thing I learned about myself this year is that I was exhausted trying to keep up with everything I said I would do or should do. I hope we can all emerge from this pandemic gently, not asking too much of ourselves or of each other. I like naps and watching movies late at night.

If you, too, are feeling anxious about returning to normal, take solace in the fact that you are not the only one. COVID-19 affected us all.

Be well, be kind to yourself, and don’t let the world overwhelm you.

                                         Glenne

P.S, Cute joke: Will all the babies conceived this past year be known as Coronials? (Oh, well, I thought it was clever.)

281 TV commercials miss the mark

 

TV commercials miss the mark

When did TV commercials become so much more tedious and uninspiring! Some of them are so annoying that I vow every time I see them to never buy that product if I can figure out what they are truly selling. 

Sometimes it is difficult to figure out what is being advertised.  They are so subtle I wonder what it is they want me to buy or think.  Probably because I am viewing through rather bored eyes as I wish for the actual program I want to watch to start or continue.

The history of TV commercials dates back to the 1940s. The NBC-owned station WNBT in New York aired the first legal commercial on July 1, 1941.  This commercial was a short spot called the “Bulova Time Check” during a Brooklyn Dodgers-Philadelphia Phillies game at Ebbets Field Watch this ad, hit control and a click to access link   https://youtu.be/lsjc2uDi1OI 

Bulova paid $4 for air fees plus $5 for station fees which was a steal at that time, according to businessinsider.com and Slate. WNBT was the only station to air an ad on that day. That commercial was quick, to the point, and interesting.

And from that date, TV viewers have been bombarded with ads about everything imaginable from foods to insurance, drugs, and services. 

One area that is especially prevalent is the pushing of pills and drug hawking. I can definitely tell what they want me to do--hassle my doctors to give me a prescription for those wonder drugs that cure just about any ailments. Plus, these ads seem to go on forever or at least several minutes.  I have never timed them but they seem to never end. 

I know repetition is the way we all learn but please give it a break.  Sometimes the same commercial will run again in less than a two- to three-minute cycle.  Not sure what the thinking is but again I vow to never buy that product.  A recent commercial with a cow and a very cute little girl urging viewers to buy ice cream was shown twice almost back-to-back.  Therefore, I wrote them off my grocery list.

I am not mentioning any brand names in this blog, but a couple of commercials have to be called out including one where a man is part motorcycle and an emu that is run all over the country trying to convince viewers about whatever!

Insurance advertising has taken on a whole new level that viewers cannot watch for any amount of time without being berated on what one should buy.  I wonder if insurance companies could save the ad money to give clients a break on rates.

There also has been a rise of topics advertised of late with sports betting adding to the competition.  At first, I was briefly tempted but then reason took over, and I decided to forego the temptation. The fat-shrinking service still peaks my attention, but I am sure the price is over the moon.  One can still dream.

The most unbelievable claim is the pointing to get rid of junk or unwanted items.  Several companies promise that this will happen.  I would love to see this, but we all know it takes more than pointing.

Please spare us the bodily function product ads that promise earth-shattering change.  Maybe these products do accomplish what they preach, but I cannot imagine!

It really seems to get even worse after 10 p.m. as ads are repeated constantly. Witness statements fill the airwaves about how companies will buy dilapidated houses. I bet those prices are very low. There should be a warning before these ads!

To counteract the time these commercials absorb of a program, we record most shows so we can fast forward through the hype of advertisers. We mute if we haven’t recorded the program -- this at least keeps us a little bit saner as we can’t hear the information.

But we would love to see a clever ad that might draw us in, but that seems to be improbable. The Super Bowl ads seem to be the only ones that ever reach the mark.  Of course, that is once a year, and the cost is exorbitant.

If the intent of these commercials is to turn the viewers away from the products, then they are highly successful. I wouldn’t touch most of them with a 10-foot pole!

Frances

280 What is it about those doggos?

 

What is it about those Doggos?

Since My pup Tootsie is a Jack Russell, naturally I follow a Facebook page devoted to the JRT. It has 5.6K followers worldwide and is one of several Facebook groups devoted to the breed.

Some folks post frequently while others add something infrequently-- as I do. A week ago, I posted a photo of Tootsie with her poor little face swollen after having five teeth pulled.

She was sitting on my lap, which she did for about six days until she started feeling better and was off the pain pills.

As you can see, Tootsie received many many comments and likes-- more than I ever have.

So with six days of being a lap, I spend much time on Facebook, looking at everything but watching many dog videos. That sent me on a search about the pupularity of dog videos on the Internet.

This also brought up many articles about whether dog or cat videos are more popular. The consensus was the dogs have edged out cats but no one is really sure. My theory is the dog owners like dog videos and cat owners the cat ones. Since there are about 94.2 million or so cats as pets in the U.S. and 8.l7 million dog pets, I think cat videos win. But have you seen the cute ones where big dogs adopt and bring up kittens?

I looked for best doggo sites and went down the rabbit hole (whoops mixed metaphor)--went down the pupper hole! Anyway, the number of sites promoting dog pictures and dog videos seems endless. I guess my addiction isn't too bad because I had not heard of most of them.

And the language! Why are all the captions a mix of baby talk and variants of the words dogs and pups and so on? I am sort of used to it but it is weird. And are all those dog owners named Karen or is that some kind of an inside joke?

Well, this has been heckin pawsome but, Tootsie is fully recovered from her dental surgery so my obsession with dog videos is laid to rest! I hope!

                                                        Trish

279 A Book for Pandemic Questions

A Book for Your PANDEMIC Questions

OH! NO! You just rolled your eyes. Yet another blog about the pandemic. Yes, but I promise you it’s a little different. I have found the book for us all to read. 

It should be required reading as dictated by someone with more authority and clout than I have. Maybe Dr. Fauci? It’s one of those books that makes you say: “YOU GOTTA READ THIS!” If not word for word, read this for reasoning, for research, and for explanations of how it is all entwined.

Goodness. Amazon loves me. My indulgence just for me is buying books online. Two days, usually, and I have the ordered books at my door. I have read lots and lots of mysteries. Caught up with all the J.D. Robb and Stuart Woods books. Bought a couple of Wooster and Jeeves anthologies and now I am reading the romance series of the Bridgerton family because we don’t get this on DIRECTV. [No, we don’t have Netflix anymore. We had a billing issue with them and we already had Amazon Prime anyway.]

Along with these “light reading” books, I am attempting to catch up with Civil War Virginians (many of whose thoughts now appall me), Black History, the Vietnam War, and the Chicago 7 (one member went to high school with me). I am also absolutely entranced by Henry Louis Gates and his books as well as his TV show “Finding Your Roots.” He’s delightful and smart, and he grew up in Keyser, WV and has taught at Yale, Harvard, Cornell, Duke among others, and has won oodles of awards. (skim the Wikipedia article for further details.) Watch his show for amazing stories.

BUT THIS IS THE BOOK! My new focus for the “heavy reading” is the history of pandemics. Epidemics and Society: from the Black Death to the Present, by Frank M. Snowden, Yale University Press, 2020. Yes, it is thick and scholarly-looking but he writes well and it reads quickly. I stay up far too late for just one more chapter! It has a thirty-page bibliography (he’s done his research) and an extraordinarily detailed index. It is fascinating. I recommend it. 

Snowden says in his preface: “The goal is not to reach specialists in relevant fields, but rather to encourage discussion among general readers and students with an interest in the history of epidemic diseases and a concern about our preparedness as a society to meet new microbial challenges.” (Snowden, xiii) Starting with the bubonic plague--I think perhaps everyone’s worst case scenario--and ending with the Coronavirus, Snowden moves with fascinating details from the fourteenth century to 2021.

I believe that these two anecdotes sold me. During the Napoleonic period, Bonaparte sent a great military force to the Caribbean colony of Saint-Dominique in 1802. He wanted to “restore slavery” and impose French rule in the colony. However, Napoleon’s forces were destroyed, literally, by a virulent epidemic of yellow fever. The army’s devastation led to a historical chain of events. Haiti gained its foothold and independence.  

The French losses in men and political power ultimately led to the Louisiana Purchase. Well, this was surely a learning curve for me! Let’s stay with Napoleon just for a sentence or two more. By 1812, Bonaparte thought he had amassed the greatest military force ever to invade Russia. However, the troops were annihilated not by men and guns but by typhus and dysentery, and weather. Napoleon‘s army was essentially destroyed and the geopolitical balance of power was forever changed. After losing over 300,000 men, 70,000 in one day at the Battle of Borodino, Napoleon could no longer expect to march from a victory in Russia across Europe. The emperor found himself exiled to Elba.

Now, I may gross out a few of you, but I found cholera fascinating. Cholera has had seven pandemics all by itself starting in 1817 in Asia, in the 1830s through 1875 in Europe and North America, in the 1880s to 1923 in Asia and Europe, and finally from 1961 to the present in various places in Asia, South America, and Africa. British colonialism as troops and trade moved, then a Haj to Mecca, and most importantly the transport revolution of railroads, steamships, and the Suez Canal caused the various outbreaks. Cholera thrived in the unplanned urbanizations and crowded slums with poor water supplies and no sewers. The epidemics that arose caused people to say “The Plague has returned.” 

There was such fear that Snowden lists the reactions: “mass flight, riots, social hysteria, scapegoating, and economic disruption.” (p. 235) Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? But cholera has a fearsome description: pneumonia, meningitis, uremia, and gangrene of the extremities. Blood is so dense it no longer circulates, acid enemas were tried, sulfur bonfires, and the list goes on. Surprisingly, governmental policies helped: the distribution of blankets, food, and medicines along with isolation facilities for the ill and the banning of group gatherings. Again, sounding familiar. (pp. 233 – 238)

If I keep on with all the gory details, you will never finish this blog or read my blog again. It will not be long before Trish and Frances will tell me to “get a grip.” Often, we compare this siege of COVID with the flu of 1918. Check out this graph; it tells enough.

WashPostArchives and ohiohistory.org/Googleimages

Since most of us were alive for the polio and HIV/AIDS pandemics, I will now race to the present. According to Snowden: “Unpreparedness to face the challenges of epidemic diseases despite the warnings” and “treatment of health as a commodity in the market rather than a human right” are the causes of our downfalls. (p. 502) Thus, COVID.

For those seriously concerned about our health system and its geopolitical ramifications, I really (and rarely) exclaim over a book, but this one is so far-reaching and so readable, it’s worth buying. It has been chosen, by the way, for the Open Yale Courses Series. (Amazon has it on sale for $17.51!)

Winchester Star photo

And applause to all our medical heroes and frontline essential workers and to Valley Health, Lord Fairfax Health District, and Shenandoah University for bringing the COVID vaccine to our hometown.

Stay well! Glenne