I woman named Betty Ryan passed away due to Covid-19 in her village in Ireland. Her friends were not allowed to congregate in the local church, so the priest conducted the service in solitude and then her coffin was loaded into a hearse for the trip to the cemetery where her family was able to attend the internment.
Betty’s friends connected via social media; they honoured her by lining the route to bid her adieu. Her family mounted a video camera in the hearse, and I watched a film of the many people waving and making the sign of the cross and she slowly passed them by. It was heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time to watch the film; the music was so, so powerfully emotional.
Thanks to my lung clinic I have a couple of excellent facemasks that I’ll use when I go to the store henceforth. It gives me extra confidence when I have to go shopping.
I mowed by back lawns in a fraction of the time I’d spent procrastinating about not doing it. It felt good to get off the couch, to be honest. But that’s all I did; I didn’t get to attending to the vegetable garden. Instead, Sheba and I went to join Gunther at the park where she and Zooey played and tired themselves out.
Today’s dawned cloudy and showers are predicted for later today or tonight. I hope it pours! I don’t want some miserably pissy little showers.
Today also dawned with Sheba being sick to her stomach. It was sudden and upsetting. She wanted out, so I let her go but I kept watch on her, and her behavior seemed fine. When she came in, it was like she had a tap shoe on one foot. I checked it out and found a pebble embedded in pitch. She may have made herself sick trying to get the pitch out of her foot.
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