June 30, 2021
Our Freedom Day is in 6 more
days, on July the 6th. Not that I’m counting, or anything. And commencing
this day, Wednesday June 30th, our province has moved into the
second phase of “re-opening”. And then, on the 21st of July—my birthday,
but I am not taking the selection of that day at all personally—we’ll enter
phase three, in which indoor dining will once again be available.
As I mentioned in my last
essay, the jury is out on whether or not I’ll be up for that right away, though
I do think that I will. Since July 6 will be the point at which I will be two
weeks post second dose of Moderna, the science says I will have nothing to fear
from Covid. I will be considered fully vaccinated.
I am, however, praying rather
hard for more people to become enlightened. Because, also according to the science,
my husband and I will be safe after July 6th, but possibly, only for
now.
The monkey wrench that could
screw the whole “back to normal” deal for us all, will be if sufficient people
do not bother to get themselves vaccinated.
You know, if you have a hole
in your house, near the ground, and you see a mouse go in, you say to yourself,
“crap, I better fix that.” So you plug
that hole. And after you leave the scene, the mouse and all its relatives, now
being aware that there is a possibility of entrance into the place where all great
treasures are there for the taking, will look for another hole. And you, if you’re
somewhat vigilant, will keep an eye out, to see if another hole appears. Or, if
you’re really smart, you’ll ensure that no holes can be found or easily made by
inspecting and repairing the foundation of your house immediately.
That may be a poor analogy,
but that’s like Covid. You see, the disease can adapt and change over time—short
time, and time is measured, in this case, not in days or weeks, but in the
numbers of people who become infected. And that process of change for viruses is
called mutation. Because Covid—all viruses in fact—has one goal, and one goal only,
and that is to infect. And the more people it can infect, the more it can
mutate. And that’s all fun and games until it comes up with a mutation that our
current vaccines cannot stop.
And friends, that will most
assuredly happen, if too many people fail to receive vaccination. So if you
know anyone who hasn’t yet bothered to do their part, please ask them to
reconsider—now.
This past Saturday I went to
the grocery store for the first time this year. I’m so grateful for my
daughter, because she had taken over that chore for me. It was the same store,
and the same process, as has been my routine for years, but it took some thought
for me to recall all the necessary steps that I like to take in my process.
This of course included finding my clipboard upon which I could slap my
printed-from-excel shopping list, because I didn’t forget during my interval of
hermitting, that I must never shop for groceries without a list. Trust me when
I say, in that direction lies disaster.
There weren’t too many people
in the store, and I saw no one without a mask, which made me very happy. Before
we could stop at the grocery store, however, we had to go to one other store, one
that was on the way, first. This is a store that carries all sorts of hardware-type
supplies, as well as small portable appliances, charcoal, tires, kids games, car
parts, …you name it and they likely have it.
We had to stop there for two
things: a hose to fit the compressor David had received as a gift for Christmas
of 2019; and a new Keurig coffee maker.
There is a saying in the
Ashbury household, one that is almost an inside joke. You see, being Canadian,
which is to be a part of the British Commonwealth, one would at times use, as a
representation of the concept of constancy, the phrase “The King is dead. Long
live the King!”. We, of course, being quirky, have adapted that saying to: “The
Keurig is dead; long live the Keurig!” Yes, if our coffee maker dies, we
immediately go out and buy another. And just on the off chance there is a space
of time between when the one we have dies and we get the new one, we have a smaller,
spare Keurig, with enough of a water reservoir for only two cups of water, and that
we keep upstairs in our storage area, just in case.
Because friends, there isn’t
an Ashbury alive who does not believe that going without coffee is a dire fate
best not even ever mentioned. Our coffeemaker died the night before, and
we did have to put the spare into service for one night and one morning. And we
did not even consider not stopping at Canadian Tire to get a new one.
When we got there, David went in
while I remained in the car. I do believe it’s only the second time since the
onset of the pandemic that David had been there, and I know that it was an
emotionally satisfying experience for him because it is one of his favourite
places to shop, period. Actually, it’s one of only two places he likes to shop,
the other being the actual hardware store in town. Everyone in this family has
often claimed that if these two stores don’t have a couple of aisles named in
his honour, they sure should have.
Friends, with each passing day
it feels as if life is beginning to creep a little closer toward normal. Of course,
no one that I know believes for one minute that our arrival at that
magic state of being is a given. The pandemic is not over, not by a long shot.
And so, we face each day with
hope, and with diligence. But not quite in equal measure.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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