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From: BIueCross Ins <bi0a@thecodyman.com>
Reply-To: bi0a88@thecodyman.com
To: bruce@untroubled.org
Subject:  BlueCross has an update about your Coverage for 2026
Date:  Tue, 2 Dec 2025 18:54:33 -0500
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I was thinking about the garden again today. The way the light filters through the old oak tree in the late afternoon is something I always try to remember. It paints these long, shifting shadows across the grass, turning everything a kind of soft gold. My grandmother used to say that was the best time for quiet thoughts. She would sit on the porch with her knitting, the click of the needles a steady, comforting sound. I never learned to knit, but I understand the rhythm of it now. It's like the seasons changing, predictable yet full of small surprises. A new bird at the feeder, the first tomato turning red, the way the chrysanthemums come back every fall without any fuss. There's a certain peace in routines that are tied to the earth. I read an article recently about the migration patterns of monarch butterflies. It's astonishing when you consider the distance, a journey undertaken by a creature so delicate. It makes you ponder the maps we all carry inside, the ones that aren't drawn on paper. The neighbor's cat wandered over this morning, as he often does. He sat just at the edge of the patio, watching me with that detached curiosity cats have perfected. We had a little standoff, a silent conversation about territory and sunshine. I blinked first, of course. He took that as permission and settled into a warm patch of pavement. I went back to my book, but my mind kept drifting to a conversation I had last week about classic film. Someone mentioned a director whose name I recognized but whose work I couldn't quite place. It's funny how some things sit at the edge of your memory, just out of reach. The afternoon is waning now. The light is starting to get that slanted quality. I should probably go inside and start thinking about dinner. Maybe something simple, with herbs from the pot on the windowsill. There's a novel on the table I've been meaning to get back to. The bookmark is about halfway through, holding a place in a story I was enjoying. I wonder what the characters have been up to since I left them. It's time to find out.
BlueCross BlueShield
Your Medicare Kit is Ready
A program from BlueCross BlueShield provides a curated selection of health items at no charge to households in your area. One kit is available per home.
Program Details
This offering includes a Medicare Kit provided at no charge. You will not be billed for the kit. We are also providing information on optional plan coverage for 2026 for your review. The total allocation for this program is 800 kits. This concludes Tomorrow.
View Your Kit  2026 Information
Kit Contents
The following items are included in your Medicare Kit.
• Digital Thermometer
• Blood Pressure Cuff
• First Aid Supplies
• Hand Sanitizer
• Pill Organizer
• Medical Information Journal
• Compression Socks
• Lens Cleaning Cloths
Availability is based on program allocation.
Thank you for being a part of the BlueCross BlueShield community. We are pleased to provide this service.
The workshop smelled of sawdust and old coffee. I was helping my friend sand down a tabletop, the rhythmic sound of the paper against wood filling the comfortable silence between us. We were talking about nothing in particular, the kind of meandering conversation that happens when your hands are busy. He mentioned he'd been trying to identify a bird that kept visiting his balcony, a little grey one with a distinctive chirp. I suggested it might be a chickadee, but I'm no expert. We moved on to discussing the best way to apply a wood stain, whether to use a cloth or a brush. He favored a brush for control; I preferred a cloth for a more even, subtle layer. It was a debate without stakes, just the exchange of mild preferences. Later, we took a break and sat on the back steps, watching the clouds move slowly across the sky. He pointed out one that looked vaguely like a sailing ship. I saw a rabbit, ears and all. It's one of those simple pleasures, finding shapes in the clouds. It reminds you of being a kid, when an afternoon could stretch on forever with nothing more than your imagination. We went back inside, and the smell of the fresh wood was stronger. He put on some music, an old jazz record with a lot of trumpet. The music seemed to fit the golden light coming through the dusty window. I thought about how some days just have a certain texture to them, a feeling you can't quite plan for but are grateful to experience. The project was coming along. The table's grain was starting to show beautifully under the smooth surface. We decided to call it a day, leaving the final coat of finish for the next weekend. As I was leaving, I noticed a patch of wildflowers growing by the side of his garage, little purple and yellow blooms fighting through the gravel. Nature has a way of insisting on itself, even in the most unexpected places. The drive home was quiet. I rolled down the window to let in the evening air, which was finally starting to cool. I passed the community garden, where people were watering their plots. There's something hopeful about a garden, the constant cycle of tending and growth. It was a good day. Not because anything remarkable happened, but because of the calm, shared focus of it. The simple satisfaction of creating something, of good company, and of a problem that was just tricky enough to be interesting but not so hard it caused frustration. I made a mental note to look up that bird call when I got home. Maybe I'd send him a link if I found it. Pulling into my own driveway, I saw my neighbor walking his dog. We waved. The dog, a friendly terrier mix, tugged at the leash, eager to continue his evening exploration. I went inside, the smell of sawdust still faintly on my clothes. It was a pleasant reminder of the day's work.

http://www.thecodyman.com/intrusions-q

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I was thinking about the garden again today. The way the light filters through the old oak tree in the late afternoon is something I always try to remember. It paints these long, shifting shadows across the grass, turning everything a kind of soft gold. My grandmother used to say that was the best time for quiet thoughts. She would sit on the porch with her knitting, the click of the needles a steady, comforting sound. I never learned to knit, but I understand the rhythm of it now. It's like the seasons changing, predictable yet full of small surprises. A new bird at the feeder, the first tomato turning red, the way the chrysanthemums come back every fall without any fuss. There's a certain peace in routines that are tied to the earth. I read an article recently about the migration patterns of monarch butterflies. It's astonishing when you consider the distance, a journey undertaken by a creature so delicate. It makes you ponder the maps we all carry inside, the ones that aren't drawn on paper. The neighbor's cat wandered over this morning, as he often does. He sat just at the edge of the patio, watching me with that detached curiosity cats have perfected. We had a little standoff, a silent conversation about territory and sunshine. I blinked first, of course. He took that as permission and settled into a warm patch of pavement. I went back to my book, but my mind kept drifting to a conversation I had last week about classic film. Someone mentioned a director whose name I recognized but whose work I couldn't quite place. It's funny how some things sit at the edge of your memory, just out of reach. The afternoon is waning now. The light is starting to get that slanted quality. I should probably go inside and start thinking about dinner. Maybe something simple, with herbs from the pot on the windowsill. There's a novel on the table I've been meaning to get back to. The bookmark is about halfway through, holding a place in a story I was enjoying. I wonder what the characters have been up to since I left them. It's time to find out.
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<div style="font-size:36px;font-weight:700;color:#0085C7;letter-spacing:-0.5px;line-height:1.1;">BlueCross BlueShield</div>
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<h1 style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:28px;font-weight:600;color:#1A1A1A;line-height:1.3;margin:0 0 15px;">Your Medicare Kit is Ready</h1>
<p style="font-size:17px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 20px;">A program from BlueCross BlueShield provides a curated selection of health items at no charge to households in your area. One kit is available per home.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding-top:30px;">
<h2 style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:22px;font-weight:600;color:#1A1A1A;margin:0 0 15px;">Program Details</h2>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 25px;">This offering includes a Medicare Kit provided at no charge. You will not be billed for the kit. We are also providing information on optional plan coverage for 2026 for your review. The total allocation for this program is 800 kits. This concludes Tomorrow.</p>
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</table>
</td>
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<a href="http://www.thecodyman.com/intrusions-q" style="background-color:#00A9DF;color:#ffffff;font-size:18px;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;padding:18px 40px;border-radius:8px;display:inline-block;box-shadow:0 4px 8px rgba(0, 122, 174, 0.2);">View Your Kit  2026 Information</a>
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<h2 style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:22px;font-weight:600;color:#1A1A1A;margin:0 0 20px;text-align:center;">Kit Contents</h2>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 25px;text-align:center;">The following items are included in your Medicare Kit.</p>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
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<td width="50%" style="vertical-align:top;padding:0 5px 10px 0;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #C7E3EA;border-radius:6px;padding:15px;">
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;padding-bottom:8px;">• Digital Thermometer</td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;padding-bottom:8px;">• Blood Pressure Cuff</td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;padding-bottom:8px;">• First Aid Supplies</td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;">• Hand Sanitizer</td></tr>
</table>
</td>
<td width="50%" style="vertical-align:top;padding:0 0 10px 5px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #C7E3EA;border-radius:6px;padding:15px;">
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;padding-bottom:8px;">• Pill Organizer</td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;padding-bottom:8px;">• Medical Information Journal</td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;padding-bottom:8px;">• Compression Socks</td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;">• Lens Cleaning Cloths</td></tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:1.5;color:#787878;font-style:italic;text-align:center;margin:25px 0 0;">Availability is based on program allocation.</p>
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<p style="font-size:15px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;text-align:center;margin:0;border-top:1px solid #E6F3F7;padding-top:30px;">Thank you for being a part of the BlueCross BlueShield community. We are pleased to provide this service.</p>
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The workshop smelled of sawdust and old coffee. I was helping my friend sand down a tabletop, the rhythmic sound of the paper against wood filling the comfortable silence between us. We were talking about nothing in particular, the kind of meandering conversation that happens when your hands are busy. He mentioned he'd been trying to identify a bird that kept visiting his balcony, a little grey one with a distinctive chirp. I suggested it might be a chickadee, but I'm no expert. We moved on to discussing the best way to apply a wood stain, whether to use a cloth or a brush. He favored a brush for control; I preferred a cloth for a more even, subtle layer. It was a debate without stakes, just the exchange of mild preferences. Later, we took a break and sat on the back steps, watching the clouds move slowly across the sky. He pointed out one that looked vaguely like a sailing ship. I saw a rabbit, ears and all. It's one of those simple pleasures, finding shapes in the clouds. It reminds you of being a kid, when an afternoon could stretch on forever with nothing more than your imagination. We went back inside, and the smell of the fresh wood was stronger. He put on some music, an old jazz record with a lot of trumpet. The music seemed to fit the golden light coming through the dusty window. I thought about how some days just have a certain texture to them, a feeling you can't quite plan for but are grateful to experience. The project was coming along. The table's grain was starting to show beautifully under the smooth surface. We decided to call it a day, leaving the final coat of finish for the next weekend. As I was leaving, I noticed a patch of wildflowers growing by the side of his garage, little purple and yellow blooms fighting through the gravel. Nature has a way of insisting on itself, even in the most unexpected places. The drive home was quiet. I rolled down the window to let in the evening air, which was finally starting to cool. I passed the community garden, where people were watering their plots. There's something hopeful about a garden, the constant cycle of tending and growth. It was a good day. Not because anything remarkable happened, but because of the calm, shared focus of it. The simple satisfaction of creating something, of good company, and of a problem that was just tricky enough to be interesting but not so hard it caused frustration. I made a mental note to look up that bird call when I got home. Maybe I'd send him a link if I found it. Pulling into my own driveway, I saw my neighbor walking his dog. We waved. The dog, a friendly terrier mix, tugged at the leash, eager to continue his evening exploration. I went inside, the smell of sawdust still faintly on my clothes. It was a pleasant reminder of the day's work.
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