Today was supposed to be the day we flew to London to start a ten day tour of the British Isles, my wife and I. Two weeks ago the doctor told her she can't travel as she has a messed up immune system making her susceptible to the coronavirus. Bummer.
I suggested I go alone, a notion that merited the stink eye I got for that suggestion so we had to plan a staycation and wait out the panic that has infected the planet. the doctor was pretty blunt and the idea that we might either get sick with my wife having a chance of serious complications or both of us being quarantined indefinitely somewhere unpleasant seemed not ideal for a Spring Break vacation.
While I must confess to some irritation I get to spend time at home and perhaps i shall test the waters of the canal and see if it is vaguely swimming warm. There are chores to be done, friends to have round for dinner and books to be read on the deck. I have plumbed he literary depths deep enough that I have a few books made of paper that need reading owing to their nonavailability on Kindle. Say what?! The next ten days stretch out in front of me with the prospect of nowhere to be and not much to do, unless Herself dreams up some obligations.
In that vein while she bought fruit to bring home, and a muffin, Rusty and I walked the woods behind the Norman Brothers Produce a mandatory stop when visiting the rheumatologist. Behind the shop there is an open space,a former orchard and Rusty settled down to sniff one small corner so I wandered with my iPhone and looked for patches of light.
I must confess I don't really understand the Coronavirus thing very well. If one isn't in an at risk group the threat seems no worse than any other flu. I know tons of people who positively refuse to take the annual vaccine and now there is no vaccine available they are all freaked out. Call me muddled but people baffle me.
In consideration of the fact our trip involved a complex jigsaw of five flights to connect me with my family it seemed likely our paths would cross with a traveler or three infected with some virus so the doctor nixed the whole plan.
I had been hoping to get together with my sister and pay a visit to our ancestral roots, recently discovered in Ireland, a country I have somehow never visited. It turns out my grandfather was Irish so it seemed high time to correct my travel deficiency. The coronavirus said otherwise and the voyage of exploration to County Wicklow will have to wait.
Rusty doesn't mind though he will miss out on being spoiled by his favorite uncle who was already planning elaborate menus to help keep his morale up while I was away. Oh well we all have to suffer through this period of plague.
The sooner this thing dies down the better. The prospect of growing old gets worse and worse as these weird problems crop up in the era of the Internet. Now we know everything all the time and we don't seem to be using the information very well.