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South Carolina Governor Henry McMaster announced this morning that South Carolina will advance to Phase 1B of the state’s COVID-19 vaccination plan beginning March 8.

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Tomorrow is V day — the day I’m finally to receive my first vaccination, the one they say will help me fight off the dreaded COVID-19 or make it less serious if I do become infected.

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Before you get the idea that I’m going to write a “woe is me” column, rest assured that I’m not seeking sympathy, nor am I moaning over old age and all that it brings with it — well, maybe just a little, but at 85, I’m entitled to a bit of moaning.

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Last week, writing my column was an emotional experience for me as I shared the connection I felt to my mother while rummaging through some of her possessions I hadn’t seen before — notes to herself, letters she saved, religious writings she cherished and old greeting cards.

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I was a busy girl last night. After much thought and indecision, I finally completed my Christmas shopping — that is except for a couple of gifts for individuals who have failed to give me even the slightest hint of what they’re needing or wanting.

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Due to an early Thanksgiving print schedule for the two newpapers I work on, I was given the gift of five whole days off from work with the holiday right in the middle of this little vacation.

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This granny is learning a whole new set of words everyday as this pandemic keeps everyone close to home, and we are missing our interaction with the rest of the world.

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I’m a radio head — not a member of the English rock band Radiohead — but a devoted listener to radio when I’m in the car traveling back and forth to work four days a week.

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Two weeks ago, I got the news that Judy, my best friend in this world, had suffered a massive stroke and was not responsive.

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On my days off from work, in an effort to be doing something productive, I keep dreaming up little projects to delve into.

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Last Sunday afternoon, as I aimlessly puttered around the house in my nightgown — not even in my pajamas — I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was taken aback by the sight of my totally out of shape hair and the frumpy gown I was wearing that was large enough to cover my recliner.

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Due to a series of mishaps, such as a truck breakdown and other untimely events, I found myself driving down Ocean Boulevard at 6:20 this morning taking my son to his job.

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I’m an avid early morning fan of a local talk radio show featuring Dave and Leanne who are my constant companions during my16-mile drive to work four days a week.

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Agoraphobia — extreme or irrational fear of entering open or crowded places, of leaving one's own home, or of being in places from which escape is difficult.

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Besides immensely enjoying excellent BritBox murder mysteries on my TV while I quarantined, I have found another source of pleasure that I might never have discovered had it not been for the pandemic.

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As I woke up this morning to a chaotic world, as I usually do when I’m troubled, my thoughts turned to my parents and how I wished they were here to tell me everything’s going to be OK.

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Back in February, before we awoke and found ourselves in a world that had changed overnight, my grandkids Collin and Madeleine and I were making plans for our summer vacation that would start the day after school was over for the summer.

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About this time last year, I was making reservations and traveling plans for a trip to the Smoky Mountains with grandchildren Collin and Madeleine, my best-ever traveling buddies.

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My son Jeff called me this morning, full of elation because he received two installments of the promised checks the government is adding to unemployment insurance benefits.

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The coronavirus pandemic that is sweeping our nation — along with nearly all the other countries in world — is frightening and life-changing.

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Last week, I suffered through an experience that left me with burning red cheeks and a blood pressure that sent the numbers climbing.

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I’m a skilled online shopper. Everything from vitamins to Skecher shoes may show up at my door any given day. In fact, a couch is scheduled to be delivered to my house tomorrow and I haven’t been near the Rooms To Go furniture store that is only about a mile from my house.

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Recently I made a vow to myself that I would stop telling people how old I am. I had two reasons for doing this— first, I no longer get the reaction of “You don’t look a day over 50,” and second, I feel like I might be using this age thing in order to be coddled and cosseted, and a strong fe…