I never tire of the sweeping view, especially whilst cooking and standing at the kitchen window.
How blessed we are to have found this place and recognized it as home.
Thirty-two years ago I would hum happily en route to this 20 acre plot where there was no home yet . It was a place in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia where we could imagine a future.
The land stayed unspoiled. The house Bill designed sustained us.
It has been a very long year – well, almost a year – of high hopes and plans to get the much ballyhooed Covid-19 vaccination. Bill and I have followed all the rules and pretty much hunkered down and separated from family and friends.
And since I am still having trouble walking with a BigFoot that moved to the other foot and then from those two feet to the knees and then to my right hip, Bill is the “outside man” for shopping and errands and I am the “inside woman” with the chores I can handle.
We both decided months ago that we would get the vaccine ASAP! “We will be at the top of the list,” we thought, “because we are over 65!”
That was before a doctor I admire warned that if I was waiting for a vaccine, it would be a long wait. He was sure all the healthy young people would get it first. It made no sense to him but that is what he believed. “And why should I get it before you do when you are at the most risk from dying?” he asked.
Now it looks like we are actually closing in on qualifying for the arm jabs that hopefully will ward off death.
It sounds like vaccination appointments will be coming up over the next two weeks in our Central Shenandoah Health District in the Commonwealth of Virginia.
Yes!
Finally there are notices that we are moving into Phase 1b in our specific district!
So why am I plagued with ongoing questions?
Is this cause for hope and celebration?
I have a more “believe it when I see it” attitude.
Will we really get the first shot?
And will we really then get the second one?
Somehow I am not sure of the value of our lives.
Will there be enough left for us after the masses of younger Essentials?
Will we have bad reactions?
How long will the protection last?
Will we have to get re-vaccinated every year?
Would it be better to wait for the one dose vaccine?
We are on the brink of beating the horrible virus that took over so many lives. At least that is what the experts keep telling us.
When we have passed the finish line and all of us have won the race for immunity, I will try to write another blog post in a real celebration for all the questions answered and all the lives saved.
Some eons ago, when I was a little girl my parents took us kids out for Sunday drives. Those were always exciting times with donuts as the grand finale.
My parents are long gone, but some of those sweet memories resurface, especially since there has been ample time to reflect on past pleasures.
Nowadays Bill takes Elsa-the-dog and me for “rides in the car.” I think he thinks we need a change of scene and he is so right. These outings expand our world beyond the walls that bind us since Bill and I are among the most vulnerables to the Corona Virus.
Elsa gets beyond excited when we ask, “Wanna go for a ride in the car?” She dashes back and forth barking and whining and eagerly jumps in. But the sad thing is, Elsa does not know how to enjoy life as a dog.  She immediately hunkers down as if to hide from imminent danger, rarely looks out the window, and shakes and shivers with her head in my lap no matter where we may wander.
Because she is so frightened I ride in the back seat with her, and off we go, with Bill as the Chauffeur.
 Elsa does sit up but only if the car stops. That gives her a window view of sorts with glimpses of an alien world fraught with terror.
Sometimes Bill stops at an ATM machine and when he gets out, Elsa goes mad with worry – crying and howling in despair that we have lost a pack member to the insane outside world
The parking lot of Walmart is always interesting too. We went there to see if the GoodWill drop was still open (and it was). Elsa began whining in anticipation of further pack loss, but we had not brought our donations and we all stuck together inside the relative safety of the car.
The Sheetz gas station is colorful too and very scary indeed. Last time we were there a mask-less fellow was filling up next to us, right by my open window. Suddenly he began yelling at a friend who was some distance away. Being Covid-19- paranoid I feared I might contract the virus from his unmasked yelling vapors (so I held my breath)! I wonder why the CDC has not recommended holding your breath as a preventative measure.
Another time we drove to Buena Vista (the nearest little town) and we saw whole families out walking with little kids skipping alongside. None of them were wearing masks either (not the parents, kids or dogs) but they were single family units out in the fresh air. It was a heartwarming slice of Americana but maybe Elsa has the right idea about hunkering down and avoiding even looking out the window.
And our last ride in the car was around our own neighborhood where we saw a new neighbor’s house being built – a lovely A-frame log home atop a hill.
We are hoping Elsa will become accustomed to our outings and will some day enjoy the wind in her hair and the sights (other than a yelling man and an ATV machine) through the window.
In any case, I will remember these precious times, these spontaeous rides, these family/pack trips during a serious pandemic. They were Bill’s idea for a change of scene that has now become a happy tradition.
There is something enchanting about the ethereal mists in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. I am still breathless for a moment when the world is quiet and serene.
View from Home The Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia