It has now been one year since Russia invaded Ukraine. So far, no WWWIII. But the last nuclear treaty between the US and Russia fell this week. I am continually disappointed in humans and in our inability to get rid of nuclear arms. We know if any sort nuclear war starts it likely spells the end of humans and creates an awful situation for any living things that remain. It seems obvious no one wants this outcome, and yet the bombs remain. Well, North Korea and Pakistan have bombs, so we must as well. We can’t get rid of them unless Russia does. What about Iran? Why can’t this get figured out? No one even talks about the possibility of eradicating nuclear arms anymore. Almost everyone alive has lived their whole life under the specter of nuclear war. It’s in the background of every person’s consciousness. We’ve decided this is an acceptable reality.

Let’s stop manufacture of new land mines, as well. Humans are disgusting at times. We would never want these horrors to affect our country, our land, our people, but we afflict them on others? Are we that small sighted?

It the month of Adar, in which God instructs us to be joyful. I’m really trying. I am still waiting for the results of the molecular tests after my thyroid biopsy showed follicular neoplasm. The tests are new, a few years ago at least half of my thyroid would have been removed with follicular neoplasm. There’s a 20% chance I have cancer with a follicular neoplasm. I was told the test could take up to three weeks, and it has already taken longer: three weeks and two days now. Sometimes, at my worst moments, I find myself hoping I will have cancer so I can rest, so less will be expected of me, so my friends will take more notice of me. I know this is wrong, I know I need to make time for rest, I know I may need to clear my schedule, I know I need to talk to my friends about how they haven’t been there recently. Cancer will not solve these problems, and even though thyroid cancer is a “good” cancer, the truth is there are no good cancers.

I have a new kitten, though he is a stealth kitten, he is six months and somehow already seven and half pounds. He was found outside a Buddhist temple, and his temperament befits that. I was going to get him if I found out I had cancer, but then my husband told me not to do that. That that would be wishing for cancer, a problem I already have.

It’s been freakishly warm as well, 70° degree days in February. It’s not freakish anymore, I suppose. I try to enjoy it for what it is, nice weather, rather than a harbinger of a horrific tick season and unsettling reminder the climate crisis is here, right now, and so little has been done to mitigate it. I wore sandals in February again today.

Which, of course I did. That’s why this blog has its name. But I still have so much, and my life, my progression through this place right now, is still joyful. The horrible things happening are not happening to me and getting bogged down in the great suffering of the world does nothing to heal it.