The Meeks and the Geeks have Inherited the Earth

IMG_0092Our time has come, gentle little sweet people with weird hobbies! This past week, I have blessed the names of those who sew quietly at home, hoarders who handed over supplies, and geeks who own 3D printers.

God love you all! You are the new hipsters. Shouts out especially to John Maxwell, who runs a tech school. When asked what he was doing with his three 3D printers he said, “Waiting for someone to tell me how they could help, and ready to roll.” And to Lindsay who set her team in Kentucky to the same. And to Veronica, steampunk extraordinaire (or maybe she’s a biker) who invented a printable N95 and found filters for it.

Shout out to Lisa and Randy and Bonnie and the other Lisa and the other Wendy and Patricia and a few more people who said, “I found these masks in my barn/shed/workshop. Are they what you’re hunting?” That’s how 24 doctors in Norton got N95s, one outbuilding at a time. Blessings on your hoarder little heads.

mandyMandy and Bonnie and Karen and Lisa (yet a different one – word to the wise: get to know some Lisas; they get stuff done) and Anni and Beth and the other Beth and Betty and Summer and Mary Sue and a thousand other women and men getting cloth masks out to the home team: y’all rock. Those masks do three things: 1) help us not touch our face in public 2) slow the virus spread; it can get through the holes in fabric, but in the same way a small fish at a big net sometimes it bounces off a fiber instead, this is extra protection sufficient for public use 3) remind the wearer that they are loved enough that someone wanted them protected, and made or bought them a mask. Mental health is nothing to be sneezed at these days–er, no pun intended. Feeling loved is important, and we can literally feel the love warm and snug on our faces, every time our glasses steam up.

Go forth (figuratively) and conquer (literally) you geeks with your 3D printers and you meeks with those barns and sewing machines. We love and appreciate you!

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Filed under humor, Life reflections, Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap, post-apocalypse fiction, small town USA, Uncategorized, VA, Wendy Welch

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