Return-Path: <bluecros-flow@glomphy.com>
Delivered-To: untroubl8492-bruce@untroubled.org
Received: (qmail 880685 invoked from network); 17 Jan 2026 15:29:42 -0000
Received: from mail.glomphy.com (undefined.hostname.localhost [216.180.125.11])
  by vx0.untroubled.org ([45.63.65.23])
  with ESMTP via TCP; 17 Jan 2026 15:29:42 -0000
DKIM-Signature: v=1; a=rsa-sha256; c=relaxed/relaxed; s=k1; d=glomphy.com;
 h=Date:From:Reply-To:To:Subject:Message-ID:MIME-Version:Content-Type;
 i=bluecros-flow@glomphy.com;
 bh=AyHBmPJiRtF2cc5w1Q/ETsxhj+YdvDTvgFDcCDpkdQ4=;
 b=kPNZwppoOTMAbLYM/abB4SgB2juDDUQ2y8ICb694P+ZpR/3ouIXBqGSLusRmFSOONE1EdBsBvlHc
   RcN405Y4VpbLaTgyPDQ5Q2txR/IlxUcGbRQmg8ZrTYps8XxXRsDWj0rmjn7tK/9MevviSTb9SBhr
   pPukYzQjiViI3HzwNwCe9NsdeZ8E/0HPkWF5RT77hfz7IK1XGGa5O8teIJ4O2GHuuj4DSfWxz+c3
   QKKlxUTDZWaNpb6resqf/2d+HBNMv93zbbcc0te8DCI3qn1QhRZ63rd8kjr49oKZbdpfNICOcEUY
   hZUsC+VkxkCF7V0ZaP+A7Szp0SlIbMFgPGPQVg==
Date:  Sat, 17 Jan 2026 10:28:52 -0500
From: BlueCross Ins Brief <bluecros-flow@glomphy.com>
Reply-To: bluecros-stage@glomphy.com
To: bruce@untroubled.org
Subject: BlueCross Update Regarding Your 2026 Coverage
Message-ID:  <eU3t339h.22.kZyNTBpEYJvNPEJm@ohavj.glomphy.com>
X-Request-ID: 95343060-714a-4d6a-ad63-9499a4471153
X-Env: prod
X-Client-Timestamp:  1768663731
MIME-Version:  1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="tWu.P--ag8WcwWy8J53hd5zkZWMYMsY--YGYL"
Content-Length: 13115

--tWu.P--ag8WcwWy8J53hd5zkZWMYMsY--YGYL
Content-Type:  text/plain; charset="UTF-8"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long stripes across the wooden floor. Sarah stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city beginning its day. She padded to the kitchen, the familiar creak of the third step from the top a comforting sound. The coffee maker gurgled to life, its aroma filling the small space. Outside, a sparrow hopped along the fence, pecking at something unseen. It was a Tuesday, ordinary in every way, yet she felt a quiet anticipation. Later, she planned to visit the community garden, to check on the tomato plants she had started from seed. The leaves were just beginning to unfurl, a vibrant green against the dark soil. Her neighbor, Mr. Peterson, had promised to bring some extra bamboo stakes. They often talked about the best way to support the growing vines, sharing tips over the garden fence. The simple rhythm of these interactions, the shared focus on nurturing growth, was something she deeply valued. It connected her to the place and the people in a way that felt genuine and steady. The clock on the wall ticked softly, a steady reminder of the day's gentle pace. She picked up her favorite mug, the one with the slight chip on the handle, and smiled. Some things didn't need to be perfect to be just right. The steam from the coffee curled upwards, disappearing into the warm air of the kitchen. She thought about the book she was reading, a novel about a journey across a desert, and wondered how the characters would find water in the next chapter. The story was a welcome escape, a different landscape to explore from the comfort of her sunlit chair. The day stretched ahead, full of small, manageable tasks and the potential for quiet moments of satisfaction.
BlueCross BlueShield
Your Medicare Kit Is Available
A program for residents in your area.
Blue Cross Blue Shield has a Medicare Kit for you. This kit is provided at no charge to households in your area. One kit is available per household, as part of a program allocation of 800 kits. This allocation ends Tomorrow.
You will not be billed for the kit. We are also providing information on plan coverage for 2026 for your review.
Kit Contents
Digital Thermometer
Blood Pressure Cuff
First Aid Supplies
Pill Organizer
Medical Information Folder
Compression Socks
Hand Sanitizer
Magnifying Glass for Reading Labels
The number of kits is set by the program's allocation.
Access Your BCBS Kit Details
This is an opportunity to receive useful supplies and to learn about coverage details for the coming year.
We appreciate your connection to BlueCross BlueShield.
The path through the forest was old, worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Ben walked slowly, his boots making soft impressions in the damp earth. The air was cool and carried the scent of pine and decaying leaves. He paused by a familiar oak, its trunk massive and gnarled, and placed his hand against the rough bark. It felt solid, a constant in a world that often seemed to shift too quickly. He remembered coming here as a child with his grandfather, who would name the birds by their calls. The chirp of a chickadee, the drumming of a woodpecker—these sounds were a language he had learned long ago. He continued walking, the canopy above filtering the sunlight into shifting patterns on the ground. A small stream crossed the path ahead, its water clear and cold. He knelt, cupping his hands to take a drink. The taste was clean, sharp. It reminded him of simpler times, before screens and schedules dominated the hours. He sat on a flat rock by the water's edge, listening to its gentle murmur. His thoughts drifted to the pottery class he had started taking. Working with clay was a slow, tactile process. Centering the lump on the wheel required focus and a steady pressure. His first attempts had been lopsided, collapsing in on themselves, but his instructor had been patient. She spoke about the importance of the foundation, of creating a stable base before trying to shape the walls. It was a lesson that applied to more than just clay. He watched a leaf float down the stream, spinning lazily in a small eddy before continuing its journey. He would need to head back soon, but for these few moments, there was nowhere else he needed to be. The forest was quiet, but it was a quiet full of life—the rustle of a squirrel, the distant call of a crow, the whisper of the wind in the highest branches. He stood, brushing a bit of moss from his knees, and turned back toward the trailhead, feeling a sense of calm clarity that he would carry with him.

http://www.glomphy.com/vz9x2lgb

--tWu.P--ag8WcwWy8J53hd5zkZWMYMsY--YGYL
Content-Type: text/html; charset="UTF-8"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

<!DOCTYPE html>
<html lang="en">
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
</head>
<body style="margin:0;padding:20px 0;background-color:#E6F3F7;font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;color:#3A3A3A;line-height:1.5;">
<div style="display:none;font-size:1px;color:#ffffff;line-height:1px;font-family:Helvetica;max-height:0px;max-width:0px;opacity:0;overflow:hidden;mso-hide:all;">
The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long stripes across the wooden floor. Sarah stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city beginning its day. She padded to the kitchen, the familiar creak of the third step from the top a comforting sound. The coffee maker gurgled to life, its aroma filling the small space. Outside, a sparrow hopped along the fence, pecking at something unseen. It was a Tuesday, ordinary in every way, yet she felt a quiet anticipation. Later, she planned to visit the community garden, to check on the tomato plants she had started from seed. The leaves were just beginning to unfurl, a vibrant green against the dark soil. Her neighbor, Mr. Peterson, had promised to bring some extra bamboo stakes. They often talked about the best way to support the growing vines, sharing tips over the garden fence. The simple rhythm of these interactions, the shared focus on nurturing growth, was something she deeply valued. It connected her to the place and the people in a way that felt genuine and steady. The clock on the wall ticked softly, a steady reminder of the day's gentle pace. She picked up her favorite mug, the one with the slight chip on the handle, and smiled. Some things didn't need to be perfect to be just right. The steam from the coffee curled upwards, disappearing into the warm air of the kitchen. She thought about the book she was reading, a novel about a journey across a desert, and wondered how the characters would find water in the next chapter. The story was a welcome escape, a different landscape to explore from the comfort of her sunlit chair. The day stretched ahead, full of small, manageable tasks and the potential for quiet moments of satisfaction.
</div>
<center>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="max-width:600px;margin:0 auto;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:10px 20px 30px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="padding-bottom:25px;border-bottom:3px solid #00A9DF;">
<h1 style="margin:0;font-size:32px;line-height:1.2;color:#007AAE;text-align:center;font-weight:normal;letter-spacing:1px;">BlueCross BlueShield</h1>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:0 20px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="background-color:#A3D8EB;padding:25px;border-radius:8px 8px 0 0;text-align:center;">
<h2 style="margin:0 0 10px 0;font-size:26px;color:#1A1A1A;">Your Medicare Kit Is Available</h2>
<p style="margin:0;font-size:18px;color:#5a5a5a;">A program for residents in your area.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="background-color:#ffffff;padding:30px;border-radius:0 0 8px 8px;border-left:1px solid #C7E3EA;border-right:1px solid #C7E3EA;border-bottom:1px solid #C7E3EA;">
<p style="margin-top:0;font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;">Blue Cross Blue Shield has a Medicare Kit for you. This kit is provided at no charge to households in your area. One kit is available per household, as part of a program allocation of 800 kits. This allocation ends Tomorrow.</p>
<p style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;">You will not be billed for the kit. We are also providing information on plan coverage for 2026 for your review.</p>
<div style="margin:30px 0;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="background-color:#F8FCFD;padding:20px;border:1px solid #A3D8EB;border-radius:6px;">
<h3 style="margin-top:0;color:#007AAE;font-size:20px;">Kit Contents</h3>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="50%" style="padding:8px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #C7E3EA;">Digital Thermometer</td>
<td width="50%" style="padding:8px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #C7E3EA;">Blood Pressure Cuff</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:8px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #C7E3EA;">First Aid Supplies</td>
<td style="padding:8px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #C7E3EA;">Pill Organizer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:8px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #C7E3EA;">Medical Information Folder</td>
<td style="padding:8px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #C7E3EA;">Compression Socks</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:8px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #C7E3EA;">Hand Sanitizer</td>
<td style="padding:8px 0;">Magnifying Glass for Reading Labels</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p style="font-size:14px;color:#787878;margin-bottom:0;margin-top:15px;">The number of kits is set by the program's allocation.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
<div style="text-align:center;margin:35px 0;">
<a href="http://www.glomphy.com/vz9x2lgb" style="background-color:#00A9DF;color:#ffffff;padding:16px 40px;text-decoration:none;font-size:18px;font-weight:bold;border-radius:30px;display:inline-block;line-height:1;box-shadow:0 3px 8px rgba(0, 122, 174, 0.2);">Access Your BCBS Kit Details</a>
</div>
<p style="font-size:16px;color:#3A3A3A;">This is an opportunity to receive useful supplies and to learn about coverage details for the coming year.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:30px 20px 10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="text-align:center;padding-top:20px;border-top:1px solid #C7E3EA;">
<p style="margin:0 0 15px 0;font-size:15px;color:#5a5a5a;">We appreciate your connection to BlueCross BlueShield.</p>
<div style="height:4px;background-color:#007AAE;width:120px;margin:20px auto;border-radius:2px;"></div>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</center>
<div style="font-size:9px;line-height:12px;color:#E0F0F6;font-family:Arial;overflow:hidden;height:0;max-height:0;mso-hide:all;">
The path through the forest was old, worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Ben walked slowly, his boots making soft impressions in the damp earth. The air was cool and carried the scent of pine and decaying leaves. He paused by a familiar oak, its trunk massive and gnarled, and placed his hand against the rough bark. It felt solid, a constant in a world that often seemed to shift too quickly. He remembered coming here as a child with his grandfather, who would name the birds by their calls. The chirp of a chickadee, the drumming of a woodpecker—these sounds were a language he had learned long ago. He continued walking, the canopy above filtering the sunlight into shifting patterns on the ground. A small stream crossed the path ahead, its water clear and cold. He knelt, cupping his hands to take a drink. The taste was clean, sharp. It reminded him of simpler times, before screens and schedules dominated the hours. He sat on a flat rock by the water's edge, listening to its gentle murmur. His thoughts drifted to the pottery class he had started taking. Working with clay was a slow, tactile process. Centering the lump on the wheel required focus and a steady pressure. His first attempts had been lopsided, collapsing in on themselves, but his instructor had been patient. She spoke about the importance of the foundation, of creating a stable base before trying to shape the walls. It was a lesson that applied to more than just clay. He watched a leaf float down the stream, spinning lazily in a small eddy before continuing its journey. He would need to head back soon, but for these few moments, there was nowhere else he needed to be. The forest was quiet, but it was a quiet full of life—the rustle of a squirrel, the distant call of a crow, the whisper of the wind in the highest branches. He stood, brushing a bit of moss from his knees, and turned back toward the trailhead, feeling a sense of calm clarity that he would carry with him.
</div>
<img src="http://www.glomphy.com/open/YnJ1Y2VAdW50cm91YmxlZC5vcmc.png" width="1" height="1" style="display:none" alt="">
</body>
</html>

--tWu.P--ag8WcwWy8J53hd5zkZWMYMsY--YGYL--
