Thanksgiving is a week from Thursday, and anybody who wants to eat and celebrate is welcome to come here. Yeah, I know about the governor’s mandate. We’ve tried masks and social distancing–Utah has been very good about that. But the virus is still spreading. So what’s the solution? More of the same! Meanwhile, the virus is doing what viruses do. I just finished reading a book about the flu of 1918, and they tried everything. Masks. Distancing. Closing bars and theaters and stores. Nothing worked. The flu spread itself through the population, killing 100 million people worldwide, and then it was done. I’m convinced that’s what’s going to happen this time, with far less destruction. Back in 1918, whole families were wiped out, and everybody knew lots of people who died. This isn’t so bad. Ask Vanessa or Allen. I’m sorry they’ve been sick (Allen is gradually getting better), but this is earth life, and people get sick. Anyway, back to Thanksgiving, we’ll eat dinner at 1pm, and pie will probably be around 5. If you’re coming, let me know, and we’ll work out a food assignment.
I’m enjoying Bentley’s missionary letters. If you want to get on his list, contact Kim. He sends them out by email every week. It sounds like he’s working hard and having some fabulous experiences. We pray for him every day, and I know you all do, too.
Heather’s surgery went really well. As soon as she woke up from the anesthetic, that awful pain in her neck was gone. Thank goodness for modern medicine! John’s surgery has been moved back till the middle of December, because of scheduling conflicts. Mine is still on for the 30th, if nothing gets in the way.
A flock of magpies checks out our back yard every Sunday afternoon, because I often put out chicken bones from the dinners Donna brings. Last Sunday it was snowing, so they didn’t come until Monday morning. Butlers’ dog came, too. He’s a big German shepherd that roams the neighborhood. (People have called animal control, but he’s still uncontrolled.) The magpies didn’t like sharing the bones with Butlers’ dog, so they buzzed him and attacked him. He left. I knew they’d win.
I hope you’re all doing great. Love, Mom