Winter and more this 'n that

As the eastern part of the country is bracing for the monster of a storm, it has not yet begun here, and it has been a quiet February so far.  I did have to get my annual check-up this week and all is fine, but I did get a tetanus/pertussis inoculation, which is recommended for a lot of us now and it has been many, many years since my last one of those.  I was told my arm would be tender and to use it a lot so it was my right arm which received the shot.  As I waited for the dreaded needle, I was reminded of a time long ago when my father did something special for me and my father was an especially good "daddy".  When I was a child, everyone got smallpox vaccinations.  Smallpox was a horrid, dreaded disease as was polio.  I did not know anyone with smallpox, but I knew several children and adults who had contracted the crippling polio disease.  The smallpox vaccination left an ugly "scab" and we were constantly told not to touch it as it would leave an even uglier scar if disturbed.  But it itched much like chickenpox.  My dad fashioned a small piece of Plexiglas into a shield for my arm where the scratch-type inoculation was.  (It was not a needle inserted into the muscle, but a surface scratch with a needle type instrument).  It looked like a clear lifesaver candy and when taped over the small area, it allowed air circulation and kept me from bothering the "scab".  Most of the baby boomer generation and a few generations later will carry that scar as it ALWAYS left a scar.  My son was probably one of the last to get that, but his was given on his back...wonder who thought of that?

My, my, the snow has arrived and as I look out the window now the range land surrounding my home is beginning to turn white.  We will hunker down.

A little more about my cousin's story.  Her mother, Hilda, had several siblings.  When they were separated from their mother and each other, they all went in different directions.  One boy, who was placed in a home to be forced to work only, left when he was 15 and he began to search for his siblings.  He located one younger brother who had been placed in a home and adopted, apparently to loving parents.  However, they did not want him to know that he had been adopted and refused to let his brother contact him.  They moved often and the older brother followed them with each move in order to continue to keep track of him.  Two of the other young boys were adopted also.  There was not much information about the other children, except for Hilda and her older sister who had married a Steffen. Mr Steffen's brother, Frank was my cousin's birth father............more to follow.