Good Morning.
Every day there's another "breaking news" story, always a bad one. Some of the trouble is weather-related, but most is the work of humankind at its worst. There's a lot of bogeypeople out there who make life just plain scary for people who don't deserve a bit of such trouble. I have decided, in the midst of another snow storm and after a day when tree roots were extracted from the main sewer line out of my house, to talk about the good guys.
My mailman brings my mail right into the house. It all began when I couldn't get a large box off the front stoop and posted a note on the door asking delivery people to set packages inside the door that I would leave unlocked when I was home. It's actually still safe to do that in my neighborhood. In any case, John took the note to heart and brings everything inside, even a piece of junk mail. He always has a photo card made up so he can thank people for giving him a little something during the holidays. One year the picture was of him and his wife drinking wine, one year he was playing with his grandkids, and one year he was front and center in his Seattle Seahawks sweatshirt. This year he was in his mailman uniform with the hood pulled over his head. John is always in a good mood, despite the weather, and I appreciate that.
The people who deliver my groceries are fabulous. They bring the bags right into the kitchen and stick around to chat.
One of them talks about his fishing trips, and another tells me about the latest restaurants to open in the city. Yesterday a new guy told me about his mother's quilting. He thought he heard a sewing machine in the basement, but unfortunately it was the augur digging out the tree roots. He said the sound of a sewing machine was one of his fondest memories. I liked that quite a lot.
My personal physician, a woman at least ten years younger than my youngest child, is the best doctor I've had in my life.
Sara grew up on a farm, went to the state university med school, and did all of her intern and residency work in my
city, particularly under the tutelage of my husband's doctor. Sara calls me my dear, is quick to refer me to a specialist if I need one, and spent a great deal of time with me after my husband's passing. She also discusses matters like what kind of make up will work on my face that doesn't like most products and how to have chocolate cake on a diet. I like her very much.
My veterinarian, also a woman, treats my dog like royalty and is another professional who's not in a rush to get in and out of an exam room. Heather has pet art hanging on the walls, original pieces that's actually very good and also for sale. In my world nothing could be better than someone who likes animals and has an art gallery in her clinic. Heather also does laparoscopic surgery, somewhat more expensive than the old cut and stitch procedure, but as in human people, the discomfort and recovery time are greatly reduced for friends who deserve such consideration.
My hair stylist, recently retired, was a great colorist and cutter but brought fabulous cakes to the house when my husband was sick. Diana loves animals more than anyone, has horses on her acreage outside of town, and takes in any creature that happens to land on her porch. She currently has a cat with one eye, among others in residence. Diana is reluctant to watch any sporting event, animal or human, because she cannot bear to watch someone lose. Now that she's retired, she is working in a wig salon at a cancer center and also at a day care facility for Alzheimer's patients.
I shall not include on this list my family members who are perpetually good-natured and highly intelligent specimens of
humanity. They need no introduction to many of you.
Best regards,
Elisabeth
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