Dog’s been pretty rambunctious of late, so I walked her by the boat slips early in the morn’, then off I went with her, my wife, in the beater up to get me a Moderna shot.
I was early, by an hour, but there were few people there — so they let me get the shot sooner than my allotted time.
Didn’t feel the shot go in, nor anything afterwards. (UPDATE: I did get a sore arm the next day.) All paid for by Medicare. Next shot in a month.
So by the end of April, I should be in good shape to travel up to NYC and see my Mom, who may be having a serious procedure done on her heart around then.
Finally, I want to mention some flack I got from Egypt as feedback over my previous post.
Here is the deal.
This blog is not my “legacy” to the world. Please. It’s is just a free association journal, of my various travels and travails.
Yes I do feel free to criticize any place or country that I think is full of phonies. It is called free speech, unknown in places like Egypt.
And no, I do not care what nouveau riche baladi Egyptians might think — or not — about my writing, when I opine about Egypt.
Egyptians don’t read much anyway (if they do: the country’s literacy rate is fairly dismal) — let alone read novels — let alone read the kind of novels I read. And as was so aptly pointed out, they could care less if they got the gist of what I write about or not, or even what the word prosody means.
I do love Egypt, still.
But the Egypt I love no longer exists.
The Egypt I love still reads Serie Noire detective stories while drinking a Stella at the Lido in the GSC.
And it doesn’t matter one bit whether it does anymore nor not.
What matters, is that it still does, albeit only in my head, that and the looming materialization of my official COVID passe-partout.
In 30 days, give or take, I shall be free to nomadically roam again — should I choose to — as in…
Now if only Europe would get its Covid act together!