My Assessment May Have Been Premature

 

"I know there's a lion six inches from my butt. SHE HAS DIPPIN' DOTS!"

Back in the early days of blogs, I regularly read several that were so funny, so well-written, so poignant and admirable, that I looked for them every day as soon as I fired up my computer. For years they were part of my life to the point that I knew the names of these writers' children and the brand of mascara they preferred. 

And then, suddenly, they were gone. 

From one day to the next with no warning at all, one would disappear. Then another. Then another. And to this day, I don't know where they went. Did they run out of material? Did they get tired of the pressure of producing content? Did they simply grow out of needing the writing outlet? I didn't understand it.

Now I do. 

The last post I wrote was three full months ago, and I had no intention of being gone so long. It just sort of...happened. 

I am here, in fact, because in the wee dark hours of this morning I suddenly found myself wide awake and convinced that the internet had deleted my corner of the blathersphere because of lack of activity. All of my observations on the joy and absurdity that is my life were gone, gone, gone. 

The 3 a.m. thoughts of a post-menopausal woman are always so rational. 

It isn't as if I haven't been writing blog posts in my head--if I managed to build a mental modem between my brain and this address I would have had, well, more than zero posts since May. So I knew I was being irrational, but rather than just checking my phone and going back to sleep I laid awake and stewed for two more hours because that is a much more rational reaction. 

Anyway, here I am! Back! And it appears that the title of my last post may have been just a tad premature. 

Hahahahaha! Babies Wonderful, the world has not righted itself. 

Because our half-hearted response to the original infection gave a new and stronger version of that infection the chance to sweep back in just as we decided we were done with it, we are now listening to Delta laugh heartily. 

In spite of vaccines and science and whatnot, hospitals are still filled with pestilence and plague to the extent that a dear vaccinated friend experiencing a life-threatening gallbladder infection had to wait on one of those narrow emergency room beds for the better part of a day before a bed opened up and she could be admitted to the hospital. 

We have watched as schools within sneezing distance of the House on the Corner open without masking even though science, and friends on Facebook have posted instructions for ivermectin dosages in spite of SCIENCE.

So, yes. I am a teensy bit bitter, and thank you for asking. But I am also so very thankful for all the good things that have happened in the non-posting months.

We are, fully vaccinated and masked, cautiously out and around for the most part. We've been able to be with each other in person as well as by Facetime. We eat in restaurants, sometimes, although we try to hit off-peak hours. We attend the church service that is least attended (hymn singers for social distancing!).  

And we have been able to see the Babies Wonderful and their parents, and cuddle them (the babies, not the parents) and watch their progression from newborn to baby to full-blown chase-me-around-the-zoo toddlerhood. I had forgotten that toddlers see animals in practically every book in the nursery, but the misting machine! And the non-nutritional snacks! Those are new and amazing!

My life truly is wonderful, and I am doubly blessed that the biggest worry I have during my irrational early hour panic attacks is that I might be missing some words from my life. I am not among those who are missing people. 

But I'm back now. I'll try not to disappear again.