by T.D. Harris
Well aren’t we in a sweet pickle. But we are in a pickle with the entire world. The coronavirus is all over the news and smart “old” people, which is most of the population around Deltaville, are staying home. But that is usually where they are if they aren’t at the YMCA. What to do with oneself becomes a conscious thought. Watching television all day is a choice. Reading “War and Peace,” which we all think we should read and have never finished, is always a choice. Taking walks outside is a good choice because it is said fresh air is a good thing. Working in the garden goes along with the good choice of being outside. At my home, there are never ending things to do. The one task that I have decided to conquer is staining the woodwork around the windows. Oops, moving the furniture means getting out the vacuum. We don’t want Corgyn hair in the stain. I am telling you that there is plenty to do and one little thing leads to another. Pretty soon the house will be clean, the woodwork stained and there are some recipes to test. But because quarantine is what we are supposed to be doing, I want to go shopping, partying and go to dog shows. The urge has never been stronger.
Memories of the polio disease come flooding back. As a young child sitting on the beach at Ocean View and seeing the Ferris wheel at the amusement park in the distance and being told that I couldn’t go because I might get polio is a very vivid memory. There was a boy who lived one house down who was my age. He had a large collection of comic books and we were allowed to visit. We laid on the floor and read comic books until they were falling apart. We had cards and played Go Fish. We could swim and be on the beach so that wasn’t as bad as being home in town with my brothers. The threat was being in an iron lung and being crippled. Those were the days when children did what they were told. Now 75 years later, the threat is death so I am again doing what I am told.
