It seems Americans were getting over the pandemic when they were afraid to go much of anywhere except Florida, which happily sacrificed tens of thousands of older adults to keep the theme parks busy.

Tripple A says 38 million Americans are on the road this holiday weekend; Maria and I will not be among them.

It’s a beautiful day here. Maria is out gardening (her vegetable garden), and I’m taking some photos but primarily working on getting past my Spider bites, if that is what they were. Whatever they are, I haven’t slept in three nights and got stung yesterday by a bee—lots of swelling, itching, lotions, and antibiotics.

My legs are wrapped in ice. The sting on my right index finger is not slowing my writing. Nothing does.

The bites rioted inside my body, so I’m taking it quietly and slowly today. I spent an hour this morning with my earphones on listening to Stevie Wonder and Amy Winehouse. I’m feeling a bit stronger today; I’ve got my heart set on some wildflowers.

I did take some time to think of all the soldiers who have sacrificed their lives for my freedom and remain hopeful crooked politicians won’t steal their noble legacy. More later.