VANCEBORO — For many people, the spaces on the calendar dedicated to Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays from May to September is already half-filled in ink for everything from family reunions to trips to camp and time set aside for home repairs and housework. Summer just seems to never start early enough and never go long enough to get everything in you want to do.
All this, of course, begins with Memorial Weekend. Dubbed the unofficial start to summer, Memorial Weekend has turned into a time for families and friends to go to camp with filled coolers, the boat and the grill, because it just doesn’t feel like summer until you fire the grill up.
My friends and I kicked off summer this past weekend at a family camp in Vanceboro. The camp overlooks Spendik Lake, and from across the lake you see the tall timbers of New Brunswick. We all enjoyed steaks and corn on the cob straight off the grill, a campfire on the beach and a five-mile canoe trip down the St. Croix River — my first-ever canoe trip, and one that I am glad to report did not end up with me spilling out of the canoe.
While it was all a lot of fun, the weekend is supposed to be our time as a nation to remember those who have fallen in battle to serve and protect this country. That’s what this past Monday is supposed to be all about.
It was a point lost on me until we made the two-hour drive home on Monday morning. The Jeep radio was set to a country radio station playing a tribute to our fallen soldiers. Radio host Kix Brooks from the country band Brooks and Dunn talked to other country stars about their music, to different military personnel about losses they have faced and played a wide variety of patriotic-themed country songs.
As a rendition of “God Bless America” sung by country star LeAnn Rimes came in over the radio, I stared through the bug-splattered windshield at the numerous American flags that hung from telephone poles along Route 6 and thought to myself, “Oops.”
Summers are so busy the way it is, especially since we are a nation of workers that takes very little time off. So when our businesses observe the Monday of Memorial Day as a national holiday and close up shop, we all take advantage of it and try to get as much done as possible. That means camping, housework or just relaxing at the house.
That being said, Memorial Day is still a time when we need to honor those that have died in battle while serving this country. They have made the ultimate sacrifice to protect this nation. Without those men and women, our nation wouldn’t be where it is today — like giving us a three-day weekend at the end of May as a way to kick off summer.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Home for Grandpa one last time
SHEBOYGAN FALLS, Wis. — They say the last thing to go for a person when they are dying is their hearing. I always thought it was a bit of a fluke until I walked in to his hospice room on Wednesday night.
There he was, quietly laying in bed sleeping while Grandma, Mom, aunts and uncle sat there by his side. I didn’t expect him to acknowledge I was in the room. From the sounds of it he had been pretty much out of it for the better part of the day. He’d been that way really since Sunday.
Grandma wanted to tell him anyway.
“Harold, Josh and Courtney are here to see you.”
His head picked up. His eyes almost opened and he looked like he wanted to say something.
He knew I was there.
It stopped me right in my tracks that night and just thinking about it stops me cold now too. It was pretty much the last time Grandpa was awake.
For three full days I joined my family in Suite 3 of the Sharon S. Richardson Community Hospice to be there for my grandfather. We watched movies, turned on the news and even the show “The Haunting” for Mom and Grandpa to watch. It was their show.
It was then when we all began the process of grieving.
Mom and I would got caught up on what I was up to in Maine and when I was coming home next month for my brother-in-laws wedding. It was good to get caught up for once without having to use the cell phone.
It was hard to sit there at the foot of his bed, look at Grandpa and think that the man who helped me through my geometry homework in middle school, who helped me build my two Pine Wood Derby cars for Cub Scouts and who would chase my cousins and I around the house as children by becoming a Frankenstein-like, playful “Monster” was now the man who could do little more than sleep.
He defied every nurse’s guess as to how long he’d make it. Many figured Thursday would be his last day, but that was three days short of the two weeks he told the staff he’d “be cured” and be able to go home. He was a fighter. His mind just didn’t know when to stop.
For three days we sat there in the hospice room, comforting each other and patiently awaiting for the time when Grandpa had decided to move on. There were moments filled with tears, others with joy. It was good to laugh, especially at Brian’s jokes during the late nights hours on Friday. It was also good to cry.
On Saturday my family made the trip from Sheboygan to Madison so we could attend my sister’s graduation from the University of Wisconsin. For months I felt awful that I would not make it home for that special occasion, but luckily we all had the time to spend cheering on my sister as she walked across the stage at the Kohl Center to shake hands with school officials she’s never met and grab her diploma cover.
We all felt guilty about making the trip knowing Grandpa was in such poor shape, but he would have been upset with us all if we had sat there in his apartment and watched him lie there while Natalie graduated. We had to go; it’s what he would have wanted.
When I last saw Grandpa later that night, I held his thin hand, told him how much he meant to me and hoped for my family’s sake — especially my grandmother — that his time would come soon. He wouldn’t have wanted to hold on forever, subjected solely to sleeping. Grandma was tired from the late nights and long hours of holding on to Grandpa and waiting.
When my flight back home reached its layover in Baltimore on Sunday morning, I turned on my phone to hear a message from my dad. Grandpa had passed shortly after 7 a.m., shortly after the wheels when up on my flight to Baltimore.
Actually, Grandpa passed away at 7:15 a.m. on May 17. For the man who loved a good puzzle it was an almost fitting time for the old engineer to go to a better place.
The waiting could finally end. It was a relief for all of us. I could hear that in Mom’s voice later that afternoon when I called to see how she was doing.
I was just happy that Grandpa knew I made it home to see him one last time.
There he was, quietly laying in bed sleeping while Grandma, Mom, aunts and uncle sat there by his side. I didn’t expect him to acknowledge I was in the room. From the sounds of it he had been pretty much out of it for the better part of the day. He’d been that way really since Sunday.
Grandma wanted to tell him anyway.
“Harold, Josh and Courtney are here to see you.”
His head picked up. His eyes almost opened and he looked like he wanted to say something.
He knew I was there.
It stopped me right in my tracks that night and just thinking about it stops me cold now too. It was pretty much the last time Grandpa was awake.
For three full days I joined my family in Suite 3 of the Sharon S. Richardson Community Hospice to be there for my grandfather. We watched movies, turned on the news and even the show “The Haunting” for Mom and Grandpa to watch. It was their show.
It was then when we all began the process of grieving.
Mom and I would got caught up on what I was up to in Maine and when I was coming home next month for my brother-in-laws wedding. It was good to get caught up for once without having to use the cell phone.
It was hard to sit there at the foot of his bed, look at Grandpa and think that the man who helped me through my geometry homework in middle school, who helped me build my two Pine Wood Derby cars for Cub Scouts and who would chase my cousins and I around the house as children by becoming a Frankenstein-like, playful “Monster” was now the man who could do little more than sleep.
He defied every nurse’s guess as to how long he’d make it. Many figured Thursday would be his last day, but that was three days short of the two weeks he told the staff he’d “be cured” and be able to go home. He was a fighter. His mind just didn’t know when to stop.
For three days we sat there in the hospice room, comforting each other and patiently awaiting for the time when Grandpa had decided to move on. There were moments filled with tears, others with joy. It was good to laugh, especially at Brian’s jokes during the late nights hours on Friday. It was also good to cry.
On Saturday my family made the trip from Sheboygan to Madison so we could attend my sister’s graduation from the University of Wisconsin. For months I felt awful that I would not make it home for that special occasion, but luckily we all had the time to spend cheering on my sister as she walked across the stage at the Kohl Center to shake hands with school officials she’s never met and grab her diploma cover.
We all felt guilty about making the trip knowing Grandpa was in such poor shape, but he would have been upset with us all if we had sat there in his apartment and watched him lie there while Natalie graduated. We had to go; it’s what he would have wanted.
When I last saw Grandpa later that night, I held his thin hand, told him how much he meant to me and hoped for my family’s sake — especially my grandmother — that his time would come soon. He wouldn’t have wanted to hold on forever, subjected solely to sleeping. Grandma was tired from the late nights and long hours of holding on to Grandpa and waiting.
When my flight back home reached its layover in Baltimore on Sunday morning, I turned on my phone to hear a message from my dad. Grandpa had passed shortly after 7 a.m., shortly after the wheels when up on my flight to Baltimore.
Actually, Grandpa passed away at 7:15 a.m. on May 17. For the man who loved a good puzzle it was an almost fitting time for the old engineer to go to a better place.
The waiting could finally end. It was a relief for all of us. I could hear that in Mom’s voice later that afternoon when I called to see how she was doing.
I was just happy that Grandpa knew I made it home to see him one last time.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
A strange sort of Mother's Day
By Josh Salm/Staff Writer
When you live 1,400 miles away from home, celebrating Mother’s Day amounts to sending flowers and making phone calls home.
This past Sunday was no different. While my wife was out with her friends having a “girls-only” brunch on Mother’s Day, I spent the morning with a cup of coffee and a cell phone, calling my mother and grandmother back home.
What should have been a morning full of smiles was replaced with a bittersweet feeling. My mother, Grandmother Green and myself could not talk really about how they were doing on the one day a year we devote to the maternal aspect of our families. Instead, we talked about how my grandfather was doing.
It was only a week ago when Grandpa moved into hospice care. He’s been suffering from cancer for quite some time, and it’s gotten to the point where he needs a little more help than any of us in the family can give him.
He’s cool with the move so far, which was a surprise to all of us. He’s been calling his new digs “my bachelor pad,” and in classic Grandpa form he’s been giving the nurses at this hospice center a little bit of grief. I wouldn’t have expected otherwise.
But while this day was supposed to be about the women in our lives that mean so much, the three of us couldn’t think of anything else but Grandpa. Friday was a good day for him; Saturday not so much. Sunday he slept for the better part of the day I was told.
We’re all beginning to cope with the idea that the cancer is starting to take hold again, even with the recent round of radiation and treatment he received. The inevitability of what’s going on is taking its toll on everyone in the family.
Grandma seems to be doing all right. On Sunday when I talked to her she said she was going to the store to pick up two roses — one for her and one for Grandpa. Apparently I missed the fact it was her wedding anniversary that day as well. But you could hear in her voice that this is a trying time for her. She was tired.
So was Mom. Besides being there for Grandma right now, she’s in the middle of completing her bachelor’s degree online and she’s stuck in a humanities class right now that even I am looking at as if it was written in Greek. It’s the last thing she wants to look at after a long day in town and at the hospice center, but there are assignments due each week.
Somehow I don’t think the sunflowers my sister and I sent home were enough to show how much we care for her right now, but it put a smile on her face and that’s what matters.
At a time like this, if we were able to give Mom a brief moment of happiness for Mother’s Day, then maybe we did all right.
When you live 1,400 miles away from home, celebrating Mother’s Day amounts to sending flowers and making phone calls home.
This past Sunday was no different. While my wife was out with her friends having a “girls-only” brunch on Mother’s Day, I spent the morning with a cup of coffee and a cell phone, calling my mother and grandmother back home.
What should have been a morning full of smiles was replaced with a bittersweet feeling. My mother, Grandmother Green and myself could not talk really about how they were doing on the one day a year we devote to the maternal aspect of our families. Instead, we talked about how my grandfather was doing.
It was only a week ago when Grandpa moved into hospice care. He’s been suffering from cancer for quite some time, and it’s gotten to the point where he needs a little more help than any of us in the family can give him.
He’s cool with the move so far, which was a surprise to all of us. He’s been calling his new digs “my bachelor pad,” and in classic Grandpa form he’s been giving the nurses at this hospice center a little bit of grief. I wouldn’t have expected otherwise.
But while this day was supposed to be about the women in our lives that mean so much, the three of us couldn’t think of anything else but Grandpa. Friday was a good day for him; Saturday not so much. Sunday he slept for the better part of the day I was told.
We’re all beginning to cope with the idea that the cancer is starting to take hold again, even with the recent round of radiation and treatment he received. The inevitability of what’s going on is taking its toll on everyone in the family.
Grandma seems to be doing all right. On Sunday when I talked to her she said she was going to the store to pick up two roses — one for her and one for Grandpa. Apparently I missed the fact it was her wedding anniversary that day as well. But you could hear in her voice that this is a trying time for her. She was tired.
So was Mom. Besides being there for Grandma right now, she’s in the middle of completing her bachelor’s degree online and she’s stuck in a humanities class right now that even I am looking at as if it was written in Greek. It’s the last thing she wants to look at after a long day in town and at the hospice center, but there are assignments due each week.
Somehow I don’t think the sunflowers my sister and I sent home were enough to show how much we care for her right now, but it put a smile on her face and that’s what matters.
At a time like this, if we were able to give Mom a brief moment of happiness for Mother’s Day, then maybe we did all right.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The layman's take on the swine flu
By Josh Salm/Staff Writer
Probable versus confirmed; outbreak versus epidemic versus pandemic.
All the talk about today’s swine flu epidemic has been a cause for concern and angst for people worldwide. It’s being compared to the deadly Spanish flu pandemic of 1918, the one that killed more people than World War I did, which was going on at that same time.
Readers are left wondering, “What’s the difference between a confirmed case and a suspected case? Who can say what’s confirmed? And what the heck is H1N1?”
Here’s the thing folks. This strain of the flu, known as H1N1 or the swine flu, has killed 26 people worldwide according to U.S. Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano and has infected just over 1,000 others, but the fact remains this is not that bad thus far.
This flu killed 26. The regular, ho-hum seasonal flu kills 36,000 annually.
And this isn’t the first time that we’ve gotten the swine flu.
While bouncing around on ProFootballTalk.com (to see if Brett Favre is yet again going to unretire and join the hated Minnesota Vikings), there was a video clip from 1976 with two Green Bay Packer football players talking about going to get their flu vaccine to stave off the swine flu.
That being said, there’s no vaccine for this flu yet so don’t go running to the doctor’s office demanding one because you read the word vaccine in this column and thought, “You know what, those old football players are right. I need to get vaccinated.”
What we all need to do in Piscataquis County is three basic things: wash your hands, cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze and stay home if you’re sick. It’s what health officials in the county have been saying since Day 1, and it’s the same message coming down from the federal government.
These solutions may sound like simple common decency. That’s because it is. Regular use of soap and hot water does wonders to fend off the flu, as does that antibacterial hand wash stuff. If you’re sneezing and coughing, don’t do it on the person next to you. For one, you don’t want to spread whatever you got to the whole community. Secondly, it’s disgusting. By the way, don’t pick your nose either (that’s right, you reading this while your forefinger is tickling your brain — stop it). Also, only use a tissue once and throw it away. The paper company in this state could use a little extra business if people would quit saving tissues to reuse 10-20 times.
If you’re sick, stay home. That goes for kids in school and working adults. Just stay home, get some rest, eat well and get better. Now, this doesn’t mean that if your significant other is sick, that doesn’t mean you have to quarantine yourself as well. If you don’t have the symptoms of the regular flu, go to work. If you have flu-like symptoms, stay home.
And if you have flu-like symptoms, don’t go to the doctor unless those symptoms get serious. There’s nothing a doctor can do about the regular, ho-hum flu other than look at you and send you home. Do everyone a favor and avoid the hospital if you’ve got the standard flu so you don’t spread it to everyone else in there. If it gets bad where you have shortness of breath, dizziness or chest pain, then go talk to a doctor. Otherwise, stay home.
Lastly, here’s three things I would like everyone to do to help mitigate this issue right now: be aware of others around you and who’s sick and who’s not; educate yourself about the flu by going to the federal Center for Disease Control and Prevention Web site (www.cdc.gov) or the Maine CDC site (http://www.maine.gov/dhhs/boh/swine-flu-2009.shtml), and lastly, use some common sense.
TO ALL CAMP OWNERS, FISHERMEN AND NATURE BUFFS: The introduction of Atlantic salmon into the Penobscot River will affect us here in Piscataquis County, even if the Penobscot doesn’t venture into the county. It’s not just salmon going in to the river, but also alewives and other “feeder fish” going into area waters as well.
Whether you know a little or a lot on the issue of the introduction of diadromous fish (fish that swim in both freshwater and marine waters) into the Penobscot River, Piscataquis County Manager Marilyn Tourtelotte set up a public information meeting at the Piscataquis County Superior Court on Thursday, May 14 from 6-8 p.m. to ask question to the State of Maine’s Atlantic Salmon Commission, the Department of Marine Resources and Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife about the proposed plan.
If you do nothing else, go and learn about how this plan could affect fishing in area lakes and rivers. This plan affects you just as much as it affects someone in Bangor.
Probable versus confirmed; outbreak versus epidemic versus pandemic.
All the talk about today’s swine flu epidemic has been a cause for concern and angst for people worldwide. It’s being compared to the deadly Spanish flu pandemic of 1918, the one that killed more people than World War I did, which was going on at that same time.
Readers are left wondering, “What’s the difference between a confirmed case and a suspected case? Who can say what’s confirmed? And what the heck is H1N1?”
Here’s the thing folks. This strain of the flu, known as H1N1 or the swine flu, has killed 26 people worldwide according to U.S. Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano and has infected just over 1,000 others, but the fact remains this is not that bad thus far.
This flu killed 26. The regular, ho-hum seasonal flu kills 36,000 annually.
And this isn’t the first time that we’ve gotten the swine flu.
While bouncing around on ProFootballTalk.com (to see if Brett Favre is yet again going to unretire and join the hated Minnesota Vikings), there was a video clip from 1976 with two Green Bay Packer football players talking about going to get their flu vaccine to stave off the swine flu.
That being said, there’s no vaccine for this flu yet so don’t go running to the doctor’s office demanding one because you read the word vaccine in this column and thought, “You know what, those old football players are right. I need to get vaccinated.”
What we all need to do in Piscataquis County is three basic things: wash your hands, cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze and stay home if you’re sick. It’s what health officials in the county have been saying since Day 1, and it’s the same message coming down from the federal government.
These solutions may sound like simple common decency. That’s because it is. Regular use of soap and hot water does wonders to fend off the flu, as does that antibacterial hand wash stuff. If you’re sneezing and coughing, don’t do it on the person next to you. For one, you don’t want to spread whatever you got to the whole community. Secondly, it’s disgusting. By the way, don’t pick your nose either (that’s right, you reading this while your forefinger is tickling your brain — stop it). Also, only use a tissue once and throw it away. The paper company in this state could use a little extra business if people would quit saving tissues to reuse 10-20 times.
If you’re sick, stay home. That goes for kids in school and working adults. Just stay home, get some rest, eat well and get better. Now, this doesn’t mean that if your significant other is sick, that doesn’t mean you have to quarantine yourself as well. If you don’t have the symptoms of the regular flu, go to work. If you have flu-like symptoms, stay home.
And if you have flu-like symptoms, don’t go to the doctor unless those symptoms get serious. There’s nothing a doctor can do about the regular, ho-hum flu other than look at you and send you home. Do everyone a favor and avoid the hospital if you’ve got the standard flu so you don’t spread it to everyone else in there. If it gets bad where you have shortness of breath, dizziness or chest pain, then go talk to a doctor. Otherwise, stay home.
Lastly, here’s three things I would like everyone to do to help mitigate this issue right now: be aware of others around you and who’s sick and who’s not; educate yourself about the flu by going to the federal Center for Disease Control and Prevention Web site (www.cdc.gov) or the Maine CDC site (http://www.maine.gov/dhhs/boh/swine-flu-2009.shtml), and lastly, use some common sense.
TO ALL CAMP OWNERS, FISHERMEN AND NATURE BUFFS: The introduction of Atlantic salmon into the Penobscot River will affect us here in Piscataquis County, even if the Penobscot doesn’t venture into the county. It’s not just salmon going in to the river, but also alewives and other “feeder fish” going into area waters as well.
Whether you know a little or a lot on the issue of the introduction of diadromous fish (fish that swim in both freshwater and marine waters) into the Penobscot River, Piscataquis County Manager Marilyn Tourtelotte set up a public information meeting at the Piscataquis County Superior Court on Thursday, May 14 from 6-8 p.m. to ask question to the State of Maine’s Atlantic Salmon Commission, the Department of Marine Resources and Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife about the proposed plan.
If you do nothing else, go and learn about how this plan could affect fishing in area lakes and rivers. This plan affects you just as much as it affects someone in Bangor.
Battling technology just isn't worth it
By Josh Salm/Piscataquis Observer
Hi. My name is Josh Salm, and I’m an technology and information junkie.
There. I admitted it. It’s not something new that I just found out recently. I’ve known about this quirk of mine for years. It’s a product of the 24/7 news cycle, Internet news sites and working in the newspaper business.
I also love playing with computers and game systems. I know nothing really about how they work, but I know enough to turn them on, get online and that’s about it. It’s enough for me to get in trouble.
My problem is fed in large part by the wireless Internet connection at my apartment and my laptop. I am online constantly to read sports stories, check the latest AP stories and playing Texas Hold’Em poker.
This all came to a head Sunday morning, when I sank into the recliner on a beautiful, sunny day with my coffee cup and laptop to take in the second round of the NFL draft on ESPN and follow my Green Bay Packers online.
That’s when the Internet connection went out.
Now most people would just close the computer and go do something else, like I don’t know, enjoy the summer-like weekend we had. I would have loved that. Instead, for some reason that boggles my mind even now, I fought with the Internet for an hour or so. I tried to fix the connection through the computer, then rebuilt the connection in the wireless modem and lastly reset the cable company’s modem before realizing there was no information going in or out. So I called the cable company to get a new modem, because I was sure I fried mine.
The 20 minutes I sat on the phone, listening to a lovely recorded female voice tell me over and over again that I could probably fix the Internet connection by resetting the modem. I’m glad that recording had a pleasant voice, or I would have been screaming at the poor guy who finally spoke to me — only to tell me the whole state was out of service and it would likely not be up and running for some time.
Again, it was a beautiful, sunny day outside and I cooped myself up inside, having resigned myself to my Wii game console to play golf — you know, instead of actually going outside to play golf, because who does that on a sunny Sunday morning? Well, guess what, my Wii wouldn’t turn on.
Another 20 minutes later on a customer service line taught me I can fix it myself. I guess those new-fangled game consoles have sensitive surge protectors in them, so they will lock down if the power fluctuates in the house. Too bad that wasn’t around 15 years ago when I had my Sega Genesis.
After thanking the nice woman on the phone for fixing my Wii instead of making me pay $250 to replace my Christmas present, I decided I had enough. Off went the TV — the draft won’t change at all if I watch it or not — The laptop was closed and the Wii stood silent. I went out to my porch to enjoy the sun for a while.
I mean, how many times does the mercury reach 80 on an April weekend anyway? At least I could cope without technology for a while.
That didn’t last long after the Internet came back, but it’s a start.
Hi. My name is Josh Salm, and I’m an technology and information junkie.
There. I admitted it. It’s not something new that I just found out recently. I’ve known about this quirk of mine for years. It’s a product of the 24/7 news cycle, Internet news sites and working in the newspaper business.
I also love playing with computers and game systems. I know nothing really about how they work, but I know enough to turn them on, get online and that’s about it. It’s enough for me to get in trouble.
My problem is fed in large part by the wireless Internet connection at my apartment and my laptop. I am online constantly to read sports stories, check the latest AP stories and playing Texas Hold’Em poker.
This all came to a head Sunday morning, when I sank into the recliner on a beautiful, sunny day with my coffee cup and laptop to take in the second round of the NFL draft on ESPN and follow my Green Bay Packers online.
That’s when the Internet connection went out.
Now most people would just close the computer and go do something else, like I don’t know, enjoy the summer-like weekend we had. I would have loved that. Instead, for some reason that boggles my mind even now, I fought with the Internet for an hour or so. I tried to fix the connection through the computer, then rebuilt the connection in the wireless modem and lastly reset the cable company’s modem before realizing there was no information going in or out. So I called the cable company to get a new modem, because I was sure I fried mine.
The 20 minutes I sat on the phone, listening to a lovely recorded female voice tell me over and over again that I could probably fix the Internet connection by resetting the modem. I’m glad that recording had a pleasant voice, or I would have been screaming at the poor guy who finally spoke to me — only to tell me the whole state was out of service and it would likely not be up and running for some time.
Again, it was a beautiful, sunny day outside and I cooped myself up inside, having resigned myself to my Wii game console to play golf — you know, instead of actually going outside to play golf, because who does that on a sunny Sunday morning? Well, guess what, my Wii wouldn’t turn on.
Another 20 minutes later on a customer service line taught me I can fix it myself. I guess those new-fangled game consoles have sensitive surge protectors in them, so they will lock down if the power fluctuates in the house. Too bad that wasn’t around 15 years ago when I had my Sega Genesis.
After thanking the nice woman on the phone for fixing my Wii instead of making me pay $250 to replace my Christmas present, I decided I had enough. Off went the TV — the draft won’t change at all if I watch it or not — The laptop was closed and the Wii stood silent. I went out to my porch to enjoy the sun for a while.
I mean, how many times does the mercury reach 80 on an April weekend anyway? At least I could cope without technology for a while.
That didn’t last long after the Internet came back, but it’s a start.
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