Author Archives: Lenora Good

Funny thing, this thing called grief

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Weather in the Tries. Gonna be more hot than not. But the nights will cool some. Mostly in the mid-high 80s with a couple forays into the 90s. The nights will be, mostly, mid 50s with a couple forays into the 60s. I think it’s summer, yes?

Funny thing, this thing called grief. It’s been almost two weeks since Thomas died. I’ve lost people I’ve loved before him—parents, friends. I’m a reader, ya know? Except for reading War Dances, by Sherman Alexie, to Thomas I haven’t read a book in weeks, probably months. I can’t concentrate long enough to hold the plot in my wee tiny brain. I watch the news. I don’t have to pay attention, it’s just there. 

I’ll try to get a review written and posted about War Dances, but in the meantime, get thee to a bookstore and get a copy. It’s a collection of very well written stories (fiction) and poetry. Highly recommend the book.

Housemate Dan woke me the other morning at the ungodly hour of 6am to inform me he’d called 9-1-1 to take him to the hospital. I brought him home after about 3 days. I don’t hurt, but I don’t not hurt. Does that make sense? 

For years, I ended every night with a text to Thomas. Every morning was an email and as he lost the ability to easily read them, texts, and then texts to both Thomas and Sheryl so she could read them to him. Of course, when I was there, I didn’t do either. But I’m home now, and it feels very, very odd not to be able to text/email him. It’s hard trying to sleep when my routine is upset. I would read a bit, then send him a text. Now I’m not reading, nor sending him a text.

I think I’m mostly through with the crying, but I find myself sitting and staring at nothing. It turns out the meds I’m on for my neuropathy is also known as Elavil—an anti-depressant. Which explains why I put on wait since starting them. Today, I’ll start looking for a support group for hospice caregivers.  

I learned a long time ago that when something happens and you grieve, GRIEVE. If you put it off, for whatever reason, Grief will wait in the back room of your brain/heart for a while. And when you think you got away without grieving, it strikes, at the most inopportune time. So I’m grieving. But it’s different than any I’ve gone through before. I’m not crying so much, but I’m sitting and staring. At something. Sammy must remind me to feed him and to take him for a walk. But he’s great at snuggling and letting me know I may be a bit absent minded, but I’m still his Person of Choice 😉

I did find one thing to read, that was pretty interesting. The full 49-page Indictment of the OP. I won’t ‘fess up to the amount of time it took to read it, how often I started over, etc. IF you haven’t read it, I strongly urge you to read it. It’s written in English instead of Legalese, and is pretty interesting, no matter which side of the aisle you prefer.

As grieving as I am, I’m still laughing. It’s weird, really. So feel free to send me jokes and funny things.

I took this shot of Thomas last August.

And this is wy I don’t dust. It could be Thomas. Or Tashiko. Or Mom or Daddy. Or…

Having yourself a great week, and I’ll see you next Monday, same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.

This was scheduled to go out a tad after midnight, and this morning my computer tells me the schedule was missed. Probably a good thing. I had a typo in the paragraph above that I missed in the proof cycle. I wished everyone a “…great wee,..” and though I wish you all that, too, I really am wishing you a great week. sigh.

I’m Back!

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In Memoriam
Thomas Leo “Walks Easy” Hubbard
15 June 1938 — 30 May 2023
Aho!

I came home Thursday after having the great honor to be with my EBOC (elder brother of choice) the last weeks and months of his life. We had a lot in common, we are both part Native American, though neither of us is registered with our Tribe. We both have Native names, Thomas Walks Easy and Lenora Rain Dancing Feet—we both took our names, they hold great meaning for both of us, but no Tribe bestowed them. We are both writers, he was a musician and I’m a listener. We are both artistic—he sketched people, made cartoons, was a silver-smith—I love silver jewelry, I quilt, I sometimes paint, I take way too many photos. He was very generous with his help, advice, his being.  

Thomas was diagnosed with ALS about the time we met each other, five or so years ago. It takes a lot of energy to die, and we decided to become siblings of choice rather than enter into a romantic relationship. That’s not to say we didn’t love each other, but it was a sibling sort of love. And it was an honor to be with him, and his partner, Sheryl.

And, of course, because he’s my brother, I agreed to be his Literary Executrix. When I’m through crying, I’ll get to work. He’s got lots of stuff to print, sort, submit, etc.

I’m of the idea that the more we love, the more we hurt. There are a lot of people out there hurting now, who truly loved that man. 

If you, or someone you know and love is facing the end of life, I heartily recommend your local Hospice. They were so good not just to Thomas, but to his caregivers, too. He was able to stay in his home until the end, and did not have to go into a new and different space, with new and strange people.

He spent the last several months wearing either nightshirts or tee’s with the back sliced up to the neckband so he was comfortable, but we were able to get him dressed for his last day, and we turned his bed so he could see the back yard without having to turn his head. His caregiver, Mikeshia, got him dressed in his favorite “pineapple” shirt and a pair of slacks.

This is Sheryl, sharing something humorous with Thomas. Probably many of the comments from his last Facebook post that morning. By bedtime Tuesday, I believe Sheryl told me there were over 70 comments in response.

These are “Bonus Sons,”–Sheryl’s two boys, who brought a very good bottle of Rye for us to toast the successful downing of the pre-meds (anti-nausea and tranquilizer). We told stories, shared many laughs, for the intervening hour before the final meds. Sheryl is sitting the chair, and Keshia is standing in the background.

And here he is sporting his pineapple shirt and drinking his toast of rye. He couldn’t lift his hands to hold a drink, so he had to drink everything through a straw–coffee, water, juice, beer, wine, soda, Rye.

I put my phone on the pillow next to his head, and this is the view he had. The bouquet of wildflowers on the right was from one of his great friends, Anna, and the roses from one of his caregivers, Kini. On the table is the bottle of Rye, and a few of his coffeehouse napkin drawings.

Keshia, his primary caregiver. He had three, not counting Sheryl and me–Keshia, Kini, and Abike. They were all super, and so caring and patient (and not just with Thomas, but also with me!) and loving.

These are more of his napkin art. The bottle of Rye on the left, and a quilt I made and gave Thomas shortly after we met. And I just received this from one of his friends:
“Half the sketches Thomas drew in his later years were studies of himself. In moods of mild pleasure, curiosity, anger, bafflement. He wasn’t a moody sort, and didn’t use a mirror, or catch his reflection in the coffee shop window, didn’t need either one. The inner reflection of the felt life got to be plenty by then.” –Paul Hunter

Sheryl took this picture of Thomas, with me in the corner. I held his left hand after he took the final meds, and stroked his arm until the end. They say that people in a coma can hear others speak, so I thought maybe he would feel the human warmth of touch as he walked that final path, and know he was not alone for the whole journey.

After he died, we all went out and cut a flower from Sheryl’s Garden to place on him. When the guys from the Funeral home came, they left the blanket, but took the flowers, and instead of putting him in a black body bag for our last goodbye, they covered him in a soft blue and white quilt.

And here I am surrounded by Keshia and Sheryl. They helped me pack up Big Red, and I came home.

Thomas said he wanted to die when he finished the first draft of his memoir. And that’s what he did. As Frank Sinatra sang, he did it his way. He gave away all his belongings, his woulda’s, coulda’s, shoulda’s, art, everything at 2:55 Tuesday afternoon. He gave away all the pains and hurts and frustrations at 2:55 Tuesday afternoon. He gave away his memoir, to me, to finish with Sheryl’s help. 

I am especially thankful that we have Death with Dignity in our state. I know not everyone wants to take advantage of it, and they don’t need to do so, but Thomas was so tired of the constant pain, of being totally dependent on someone else—ear itch? call someone to scratch it. Nose itch? back itch? Want a sip of coffee? Call someone to hold it for you. Eat? Yeah. His legs were useless, his arms were useless, the muscles of his core were gone, so were his back and neck muscles (do you have any idea how much a head weighs when it’s full of skull, brain, words, etc.?) If he needed to type, he had to dictate, and his facial muscles were beginning to go, and the computer didn’t always understand him, and then he’d get frustrated. It’s good the computer didn’t understand what he was saying as he yelled at it. 

MedPage Today has an interesting article—Dying With Dignity: A Look at the Advantages of the Medicare Hospice Benefit—the program is both cost-effective and compassionate. I strongly suggest you read it if you have any questions about Death With Dignity. 

Thank you for your patience with your Old Auntie, while she was gone. It’s good to be home, though there is more than a little pain involved. One of the super nice, wonderful things, is some time ago, my Ol’ Same gifted me with some very nice soap and a travel tin. I used them both on this trip. Thank you, Ol’ Same. You and your gift brought many smiles.

Somehow, one of Thomas’s tee shirts ended up in my suitcase. It’s bright red, short sleeved, and has a pocket. I’m told he loved this shirt and liked to wear it on Tuesdays (the day he died). No one has confessed they put it in my suitcase, but I’ve worn it all day for a couple of days. Like having a Thomas Hug all day long. Maybe his ghost put it there?

Walk Easy, 
my brother.
Sing and dance
live and laugh,
run and play
now that you can,
with our Ancestors.
Walk Easy,
my beloved elder brother.

Holiday Hiatus

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Dear Virtual Nieces, Nephews, Families of Blood, and Families of Choice

Auntie Lenora taking a hiatus from Coffee Break Escapes for a short, but undetermined, time. Things are going on in Auntie Lenora’s life that she needs to attend to. She is well, so no worries, okay?

The Brave Dog is also fine. However, now that he has his own “column” and a newly found voice, he will sulk. But Spring is coming and soon the alligators and the giraffes will come out of their hibernation, and he will probably be too busy herding them to the island and keeping the hippos out of the parking slots. Life’s hard when you have short legs, a fear of anything taller than your shadow at high noon, and you have to do all that work. But he does such great job, the management is very pleased. Just wish they’d lower the rent. Or pay for his dog food.

All is well here, but your old Auntie needs a vacation. She’s heading over to the Dark Side of the Cascades for a bit to give someone in more need a staycation for a week or two. Stay tuned, she will return. Oh, yes, there will be weather in her absence, of that, she is sure.

Photo of the week:

We have visitors. After shooting them (with a camera) and putting my camera away so I could hold the leash with my short legged friend at the other end, they started “swimming” in the pond. The water is so shallow they couldn’t paddle, so they walked along it until they got out and went to the larger, and deeper, pond. Wish I’d been able to get a video of them walking, with their knee bones coming up, out of the water with each step. Use your imagination and smile at the sight.

Do You Remember Billie Holiday?

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Weather in the Tries:
   It appears we head now to warmer temperatures. The nights are still cool at or slightly below freezing but the days are scheduled to be almost bikini time ranging from 45-50F. Winds (Sammy hates wind) some sun, clouds and maybe a bit of rain (Sammy hates rain). But I have this feeling that Spring is coming, ready or not!

Do you remember Billie Holiday?
   For the last Monday in February, I thought I’d highlight a black singer singing a song written by a Jewish school teacher. Actually, I was just going to feature the singer, but the rest of the story is too interesting, at least to me.
   So, I asked myself the question, do I remember Billie Holiday? I was thirteen when she died. And listened to rock n roll. I don’t think I listened to R&B unless one of the DJs put it on for some reason, so no, I don’t think I remember her from my actual life memories, but I’ve heard/seen her on YouTube. And I remember her song, Strange Fruit but I’m sure I remember it as an adult, not a kidlet. If I heard it as a kidlet, it wouldn’t have made much sense to me, as I didn’t understand, probably didn’t know, that lynchings were still going on. And I had zero knowledge of metaphors.
   It was while looking up some stuff on Ms. Holiday I came across the story of Abel Meeropol, the Jewish teacher, poet, and songwriter who published under the pen name of Lewis Allan, the names of his two boys who were stillborn. 
   I was a kid when Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were arrested, tried, convicted, and murdered for espionage. I remembered being quite concerned about their two boys, Robert and Michael and if their mother was killed, who would raise them, love them, kiss their oweeees, be their mommy. At that time, I had no concept of what espionage was. My grandmother tried to assure me the boys would be taken care of, but I never really quite believed her. Well, they were adopted and took the last name of their adoptive parents—Meeropol. The very same Abel Meeropol who was struck by a photo of a lynched man and wrote the poem, Strange Fruit, that Billie Holiday recorded and then sang often, as hard as it was for her. Her father (or at least the man she identified as such) was denied medical treatment because of the color of his skin and died from a treatable condition.
   As the Rosenbergs awaited their date with destiny, I remember hearing that she sang in Yiddish, songs of encouragement to her husband, Julius who she perceived at the weaker one. They were in the same prison, out of sight from each other, but close enough he could hear and respond. I was seven when they were arrested, ten when they were killed.

   Talk about degrees of closeness—Rosenbergs to Meeropols to Billie Holiday to thee and me.

   Just for grins, I searched for Robert and Michael Meeropol to see what they are up to now, very interesting. This would be, I think, what Paul Harvey would call “The rest of the news!”

   The rabbit holes one can find in a computer! And, time is different when one is traversing rabbit holes in one’s computer! It’s three in the afternoon when I start down the hole, and a few minutes later, when I come out it’s seven already yet.

Photos of the Week:

Yes? Do you need something?
I got it! I got it! All mine!
I’m guarding the suet feeder to be sure no other tree mouse gets to it.

Entertainment:
Books: Remember if I finish a book, I review it (eventually) at https://lenoragood.blogspot.com 
   I am lax in posting a couple of books, it’s been a weird week or two. Your patience is appreciated.

Movies/Tv:
   Haven’t seen anything but news.

Sammy Says:
  My human is right when she says I don’t like water falling on me, or wind. The water is cold and it hurts. I don’t have the fat other dogs have, and I don’t have a lot of fur. And the wind throws dirt in my eyes, and sends the zombie leaves  to attack me, and everybody knows that zombie leaves love to eat puppy brains and I don’t have enough brain to spare. 

Sammy Needs a Job

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This is a public Service Announcement:

I will be one of the three featured readers this coming Thursday at Fixed & Free Feb 23 features Don Krieger, Catherine Strisik, Lenora Good. If you are up for a night of poetry, and even a chance to read one of yours, contact Billy at Welbert53@aol.com get your free ticket to join us. Should be a night of fun and frivolity. Bring money and buy books!

Weather in the Tries:
   We have high wind warnings until Tuesday. We also have fairly warm days in the mid 50s, and on Wednesday, it travels downhill in a handbasket with our lows going into the teens and our highs barely above freezing. Friday is scheduled for a sunny day and Saturday starts warming up again. And it’s going to be cloudy. Hey! This is a desert—I don’t mind the cold, but dahyamn! the clouds belong on the other side of the Cascades! Those folk over there are called Mossbacks for a reason!

Sammy Needs a Job;
   This is a good news bad news story. A bit of background to explain how it all happened. Housemate Dan and I share the larger bedroom as a joint office. So we each wear ear pieces/headphones when we are watching something on our computers so we don’t disturb the other person. I have a pair of Beats ear pods. I really like them, and I take out my hearing aids so I can use them. The aids have a special place on my desk—a place that is seldom messy. 
  The other day I received a ring light for Zoom/Skype meetings and moved my computer and extra monitor a bit to get it set up. I noticed one of my aides had fallen off its usual place. I did a cursory looksee, didn’t find it and decided to wait until morning. Big mistrake. Somehow, the one aide was knocked off and onto the floor and, being a dog who is always looking for snacks, Sammy grabbed it and proceeded to chew.
   Yummm, this tastes like my human. Crunch. Crunch. I’m so glad she threw it away.
   Yes indeed, he crunched it. Thank goodness he didn’t swallow the battery or break the casing! As you can see in the photo below, he did badly dent it. I took the pieces to the nice man at Costco and made an appointment for 31 Mar to get re-tested and order new aides.
   Remember, I said this story is a good/bad news one. Well, you now have the bad. The good is the replacement aides are considerably better than the chewed one, and cost almost half of what I paid for the last ones! A friend has suggested I see if I can get into the VA system for aids, but I don’t hold much hope. They declined me for medical because I have too good of insurance, but I did write Sen. Patty Murray about it and we’ll see what her response is. So much for the promises to our Vets! /snark/   The upshot is, Sammy needs a job to pay me for eating my right ear aide. Admittedly, his resume is a bit thin, but I list it here in case you know anyone looking for some help. He is excellent at keeping the Humpfolumpuses off furniture, and Hippopotamuses out of parking slots. And since he started patrolling the apartment complex we have had no alligator or giraffe sightings. He is also very good at disposing of snacks and cuddling for naps. Any help you can offer is appreciated

   As it is still Black History Month, but you maybe aren’t reading like you’d like to, may I suggest some music and or poetry by Avotcja (pronounced Avatcha). She’s a fascinating person, check her out. YouTube has a few hours of her and others on this page. Chances are it’s been a while since you’ve listened to Johnny Mathis too, well, fix it!

Photos of the Week:

I’m just thrilled he didn’t eat the battery! Or break the battery casing!
Suet feeder? What suet feeder? I don’t see no stinkin’ suet feeder here.
–famous quote by Kirkland Tree Mouse
Bewick’s Wren. Tiny, cute, and rather rare.

Entertainment:
Books Read:  If I finish it, I review it:  https://lenoragood.blogspot.com
  Slim pickin’s—haven’t finished a single book or movie or even an episode of Bab5. Colds affect me that way.

Sammy Says:
   I don’t know why my human is so upset because I chewed her ear toy. It tasted really neat. Just like her. If she didn’t want me to chew it, why did she toss it down for me? Now she wants me to get a job to help pay for her new one. Oh, well. I’ll snuggle up to her, batt my eyes at her, and she’ll forget. Won’t she? She doesn’t understand, I work for treats, and she doesn’t like my treats. But if treats will help her get a new ear toy…Humans are so hard to understand.

Auntie Lenora’s Excellent Birthday Skydiving Adventure

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Didja notice? Friday the 13th comes on Monday this month?

Weather in the Tries:
   Looks like the lowest low we’ll get is Thursday with a 27 the others will be hovering around 30 and our highs are going up to 51! with most days high 40s. There is a possibility  of rain and a T-storm on Friday, but that’s so far down the line, anything could happen. Let it suffice to say, we shall continue to have weather, in whatever glory it chooses to show us.

Auntie Lenora’s Excellent Birthday Skydiving Adventure:
   While visiting my EBOC (elder brother of choice) in Kirkland, I celebrated my 80th birthday. Yes, indeed, it’s now official, Auntie Lenora is an Old Lady. I had planned on going for my first skydive from one of those planes that aren’t all that good (why else would anyone jump from one?), but I was visiting, and it was colder than a well-digger’s bottom, as well as raining, and I’m a Devout Coward, so I didn’t. Isn’t it nice that Auntie Lenora’s birthday comes in winter? She’ll probably never jump out of a plane on her birthday, but it’s fun to dream. And plan. And now and then plot. And you just had to read about it, didn’t you?   BUT I did do something every bit as exciting. I bought a Yamaha! No, silly, not a motorcycle, an electric keyboard (If I was gonna buy a motorcycle, I’d get a Hawg! /snicker/snort/). Something that’s been on my list of things since I was a kid was to learn to play the piano, but could never afford one, and when this deal came up, I grabbed it. I know I will never be invited to play Carnegie Hall, but by golly I may be able to compete with Lt. Columbo at playing chopsticks!
   I understand the hardest part of playing the piano, at least for those of us who are, uh, mature individuals, is divorcing the left-hand movement from the right-hand movement. I expect my instructor will be able to help with that. And daily practicing. Housemate Dan bought the tenor sax. Alas, he’s already a musician, and I am not. And he’s already eyeing my keyboard.

   There is a picture window in my EBOC’s room, to the lower yard. The house he lives in has upper, lower, and side yards, and are all wonderful! In the center of the window is a shepherd’s crook with a suet feeder hanging from it. I was able to get lots of bird shots through the window. I had to figure out why they spooked every time I raised my phone. It finally dawned on me, I have a flashy, blingy, phone cover, with little moving metallic parts. The parts caught the light and flashed, and the birds left. Once I took the cover off, I got some great shots. And there aren’t just birds wandering through the yard—there are squirrels, a racoon momma and 3 kits, bunnies, and other woodland critters. Including a bobcat! EBOCs care-giver, grabbed the photo below. Wow, what a shot. And she gave me permission to use it. He has some of the most wonderful care givers to help him. And to think, Kirkland is a densely populated city; fortunately, there is enough green space for the Bobcat. S/He probably helps in keeping the mouse & rat population down. Nice kitty, nice kitty.

   I hope you are all enjoying Black History month, and reading at least one book by a black author, either fact or fiction. As well as Root. No matter what genre you read, you’ll find some very good black authors there. Read poetry? May I suggest Lucille Clifton or Yusuf Komonyakaa. Science Fiction/Fantasy? How about the inimitable Octavia Butler? Literary fiction? Tony Morrison. Nonfiction? Isabel Wilkerson, Jonathon Capehart.

Photos of the Week:

Bobcat photo going up the stairs from the lower yard to an upper yard. Photo taken, and used with permission by, Mikeshia Morrison
This is a Stellar’s Jay in the bare naked plum tree. I missed the crow.
Tree Mouse says he wants some of that suet, thank you very much.


Entertainment:
Books Read:  If I finish it, I review it:  https://lenoragood.blogspot.com

   Am still reading Living the 1.5 Degree Lifestyle by Lloyd Alter. Took it with me, but not conducive to interruptions, and besides, I was a guest, not polite to tell the host I’d rather read than visit. However, I did finish a piece of fiction that was great fun: The Second Hand Curses by Drew Hayes. A delightful collection of re-imagined fairytales. See my review when it gets posted.

Movies:
   We only watched one episode of Columbo this time, no movies. Couldn’t seem to find anything that looked interesting. So, I read to him (EBOC) from the new novel manuscript by one of his friends.  

Sammy Says:
   My human is home!! My human is home!! She gave me loves and snuggles and slept with me. Can you see me do my happy dance? She said I was her good boy while she was gone, she didn’t see any humpfolumpuses marks on the furniture, or hippopotamuses in the parking slots. Oh, I’m still her good and brave dog. She did say, though, enough already with the happy dance. It’s making her dizzy (whatever that is), but I’m sooooo happy. My human is home!!!

A Shout Out and Happy Birthday to my Ex-

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The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Weather in the Tries:
   Sorry, I’m still out of town, and the weather only goes 10 days out. However, I do believe it would not be far amiss should I state that we most definitively will have weather! At least I hope we will and the world won’t end before I get home.

A Shout Out and Happy Birthday to my Ex-Boss:
   How many of you can state that you actually hired you boss? Yep, I hired him to be my boss. Okay, I didn’t really hire him, I didn’t go to HR to hire him, but my boss needed another boss betwixt her and me and asked me who I’d like to work for. Other than saying “Huh?” at such a request, I didn’t have to think about it, and promptly named a gentleman we both knew and had worked with on our prior job.
  And that silly man said “Yes” when she called. She even told him I would be working for him and he still said “Yes”—there’s just no accounting for some people;-)
  Today is his birthday, and because he is such a wonderful and nice person, and still a good friend, I shall forego calling and singing him Happy Birthday. I think. I shall try not to do that. After all, he is a good friend, and he might get even. Oh. Wait. He would have to wait almost another year to get even, as my birthday is just a few days before his. Can he remember a vengeance that long? Bwahahahahaha

The Root: 
   Did you subscribe? Will you read it at least once a day during February? I hope so. (Those are rhetorical questions; you need not reply 😉

Photos of the Week:

Sea Gulls on the snow covered roof of the Marina. The brown speckled ones are teen agers.
A very cold Osprey on a tree at Allen’s Point, Bateman Island, across from my old apartment
A very cold Great Blue Heron looking for lunch. These three pictures were taken last February at the old apartment on the Columbia River

Entertainment:
Books Read: If I finish it, I review it:  https://lenoragood.blogspot.com
   I have something like 650 books on that blog, and a search engine, surely you can find something to read in there.
   I finished Meru by S., B. Divya. It is a page burner. Read my review here.

Movies/TV:
   You’re pretty much on your own for this one two. I have a few reviews up on this site, and several on the old site which you can access from Movies & TV above.

Sammy Brave Dog:
   Housemate Dan keeps telling me when my human will return, but I don’t understand things like days and weeks. I just know my bed is lonesome without her. H. Dan gives me treats, but I miss my human. A little bit. But if she doesn’t come home soon, I may forget her, and H. Dan will become my human. There! That oughta teach her!!

Long Lost Martin Luther King, Jr. 

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Weather in the Tries:  Ooh, it looks like we’re in for a cold snap most of the week. Night lows down to 17, daytime highs in the low 30s. The cold will start Sunday, the day I’m leaving.  Y’all bundle up, hear??

Long Lost Martin Luther King, Jr. Speech:
   I subscribe to Jerry Coyne’s blog, Why Evolution is True. He puts out a prodigious number of posts—several a day. I love the first one of the day, The Hili Dialog best. Hili is a cat he met in Poland whose staff are Jerry’s Parents of Choice or his choice of Adopted Parents. Once in a while I read the others, or at least skim them. Last Monday, he had a long-lost speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. in it. Well worth the listen and read (the words scroll on the screen as he speaks). Recorded in 1962 and forgotten, until people were digging through New York State Museum’s audio recordings and came across this one on a reel-to-reel tape with a piece of masking tape used for a label. It said, “Martin Luther King, Jr., Emancipation Proclamation Speech 1962.”
   The speech is just shy of 26 minutes. There is a silence of a few seconds around the 15-minute mark, just keep reading, the speech resumes quickly. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Black History Month in February, than listening to one of our great orators talk about black history. I’m putting the URL here, in case the above link doesn’t work for some reason.
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0Jzqiqwo5A&t=1550s 
   To read the full story go to NPR. 
   Speaking of Black History Month, remember, you are, at a minimum, 4% Black African. According to the bigots, if you have a bucket of white paint and you add any amount of black, brown, red, yellow, or any other color, the paint is no longer pure white. It’s colored. There is not a human being alive today who is pure white, from Nick Fuentis to Ron DeSantis and everyone else. Even Donny J. Trump. 

The Root:
   For the month of February, consider subscribing to, and reading, The Root | Black News and Black Views with a Whole Lotta Attitude. Get a different perspective on the stories of the day. If you’re a movie buff or aficionado, you might be interested in this story, as well as some of the sub stories, Oscars 2023: Family of Emmett Till, Whoopi Goldberg React to Till Snub.
   I’m not asking you to agree with everything you read, but I am asking you to read it, at least one story, every day. The subscription is free, and the language is delightful. Remember this quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.” Stretch your mind.

Miscellaneous news &c:
   By the time you read this, I will be on the Dark Side of the Mountains to visit my Elder Brother of Choice (EBOC). I’ll be there around 10 days, so this post may be a wee bit skinny, as will the next one. I will try to post the next one from over there, unless I can get it written and scheduled before I leave, which will be optimum as far as I’m concerned.

Photos of the Week:

Snow storm from last year, Allen’s Point, Bateman Island, across from my apartment
Also from last year February. I think these are Wilson’s Warblers. If I’m thinking wrongly, don’t hesitate to let me know.

Entertainment:
Books Read:  If I finish it, I review it:  https://lenoragood.blogspot.com   Have started the book for the Book Group and am abut 50% through it—Living the 1.5 Degree Lifestyle, Why Individual Climate Action Matters More than Ever —by Lloyd Alter. When I looked through the book, I noticed he had end notes, and you know how Auntie Lenora hates end notes. When I got to the first superscript number in the text, I went to the back, and oh, blessings upon Mr. Alter—or his publisher—they all seem to be bibliography or citation notes. Happy day! Auntie Lenora only needs one bookmark.

Movies/TV:
   Still wading through Babylon 5. The protagonists are, for the most part, members of Earth Force, the military arm of Planet Earth. Bab5 is based, albeit loosely, on the Navy. But they forgot one major thing, which would not have changed the story or outcome had they used it—the military Code of Conduct and the Rights of POWs. “Article V – When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, service number, and date of birth.” There’s a little bit more, but that’s the part Sheridan, the Coptain, seems to have forgotten. Or maybe he didn’t consider himself a POW? 

Sammy Brave Dog:
   Wow! My human is going to be gone for a long time, at least a couple of hours. And she’s leaving me at home with Housemate Dan. He gives me treats. And I can sleep in my human’s bed and don’t have to share. Oh. Wait. How will I stay warm without my human to snuggle? But she’ll be back. She always promises. And she always gives me my chores to do whenever she leaves the house. I have to keep the Humpfolumpuses off the furniture and the Hippopotamuses out of the parking slots. And in the summer, I have to keep the Giraffes and the Alligators in the main pond, not in ours. They hibernate in the winter, so I leave them alone. I do a very good job, too. Just ask anyone here how many times they’ve come home to find a hippopotamus sleeping in their parking slot, or a giraffe or an alligator splashing all the water out of their pond? They’ll always say it never happened. That’s because I’m so brave and such a good dog.