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We are Not Experiencing the Same Virus

One of the hard things about this time of coronavirus (there are so many) is that people are not in the same place. Not physically, not geographically, not psychologically. Some folks are blissfully learning to make their own pasta while reluctantly training themselves to spend 24 hrs a day in close-company with their spouse. Others, like me,...

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The Salad Days

We’ve been granted a reprieve here in Waveland. Two weeks before descent of coronavirus, my husband had hip surgery. I wrote about the harrowing experience here. Six weeks later, after an encouraging doctor’s report, we have entered the salad days. Thing about the salad days, sometimes it’s hard to know you’re in...

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Surgery in the Time of Coronavirus

I sat in the early-morning dark of the hospital parking lot, my phone clutched in my hand. I’d been in the lot since 3:30 am. The charge on the phone—my lifeline to my husband—was running out. No one else was in the lot. A fluorescent streetlight blinked. Was the pain in his leg a blood clot? Was he in danger? My gaze flickered between...

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Could There Be a Better Combination?

I just finished watching Steph Curry and Dr. Fauci have a Q&A on the coronavirus on IG. It was the best. An extremely healthy, hugely popular young athlete and an old, extremely personable expert on the coronavirus talking in an informal question and answer session, with Steph (I’m gonna call him Steph as if we go way back) analyzing...

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Silver Linings in a Cloud

It is 9:00am. I have walked the dog, fried eggs for breakfast, and wiped down all the frequently touched surfaces in the apartment. I’ve taken out the trash and the recycle, fed the dog, and helped my husband with his needs as a post-surgery patient. I’ve cleaned the dishes and started a load of laundry. Between care duties and the...

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Coming of Age in Mississippi

Coming of Age in Mississippi: Ann Moody (published 1968) Reading accurate histories of Mississippi can be a tradeoff between being appropriately reminded—again—of how TERRIBLE things were and constantly seeing Black folk as victims, victims, victims. Ann Moody—born Essie May Moody—was not a victim. She was a girl then young woman whose...

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