With a Whimper?

The house is quiet now, except for the ticking of the clocks in the kitchen and occasional birdsong. The robins, phoebes, and others had a lot to say a few minutes ago, when they treated me to a lovely morning sonata. I don’t know if that’s the right word. I should look it up.

I’ve already checked in with the world. Perhaps that was a mistake, but a friend and her son are supposed to come over this afternoon, and I wanted to see if she had messaged me on Telegram. Our visits often get canceled for one reason or another.

I’m certainly feeling more somber than I was before I turned on my computer. If I’m not reading the latest propaganda about the necessity of masks, vaccines, and lockdowns—still!—I’m reading the truth about what vaccines are doing to great numbers of people all over the world: namely, killing them. And I keep wondering: where and when does it all end?