When driving my daughter to work one morning, the oldies station played HELLO MUDDAH HELLO FADDAH. A distraught child, left in a mosquito ridden camp, encountering poison ivy, ptomaine, and constant rain, bemoans his fate in a letter to his parents. He begs for immediate rescue, even promising to be nice to his little brother. Then the weather clears and kids start canoeing, playing baseball, and enjoying the surroundings. MUDDAH FADDAH KINDLY DISREGARD THIS LETTER.
Welcome to 2020, kid. Little risk of poison ivy on a nature walk from the kitchen to the family room, hopefully no real chance of food woes from the local takeout. The biggest fear is the Pandemic Fifteen, the expected weight gain from our imposed isolation.
I take the occasional day trip to the shore. It provides relief from the day-to-day, and the boardwalk never disappoints, even as I distance from potentially disease-carrying strangers. They avoid me, likewise.
Walks through the neighborhood or nearby parks also provide a diversion as I wave to fellow trekkers and hope to talk to them face-to-face one day.
This may not be the summer from long drives, or stretches at the shore or mountains, but we humans are adaptable and have survived far worse. The last one hundred years have hosted regional and world wars, the Spanish Flu, and natural disasters. Yet here we are, wolfing down hot dogs, Cheetos, and Maalox.
Still, the ocean beckons, the birds and wildlife welcome a visit, and every living creature knows that things will get better. So I’ll roast Smores, swat that bug, and overcook the bratwurst. It’s summertime, and the living is easy.
Welcome to 2020, kid. Little risk of poison ivy on a nature walk from the kitchen to the family room, hopefully no real chance of food woes from the local takeout. The biggest fear is the Pandemic Fifteen, the expected weight gain from our imposed isolation.
I take the occasional day trip to the shore. It provides relief from the day-to-day, and the boardwalk never disappoints, even as I distance from potentially disease-carrying strangers. They avoid me, likewise.
Walks through the neighborhood or nearby parks also provide a diversion as I wave to fellow trekkers and hope to talk to them face-to-face one day.
This may not be the summer from long drives, or stretches at the shore or mountains, but we humans are adaptable and have survived far worse. The last one hundred years have hosted regional and world wars, the Spanish Flu, and natural disasters. Yet here we are, wolfing down hot dogs, Cheetos, and Maalox.
Still, the ocean beckons, the birds and wildlife welcome a visit, and every living creature knows that things will get better. So I’ll roast Smores, swat that bug, and overcook the bratwurst. It’s summertime, and the living is easy.