Her name was Mary Mallon and she was a rich man’s cook in the early 20th century.
Trouble was that she was an asymptomatic carrier of Typhoid Fever.
She denied being “sick” all her life, but she was caught up in the conflict between public health and individual rights. She ended up living out her life in isolation.
The little notification beep on my phone tells me that there’s motion in my backyard. Sometimes it’s the Cardinal enjoying a snack. Weeks ago, when this was just beginning, we put a little birdseed on the deck to see what would happen. After a few days the cardinals appeared. A sweet couple - bright red with a black face and soft brownish-red.
“Take the trip, buy the shoes, eat the cake”
We’ve all heard that line before and felt its familiar tug, reminding us that life is better when it’s lived, fully. Trading coffee with your family, for on-time arrival to the office, or skipping the walk after lunch, to meet a deadline are familiar, as well. Choices are made many times in a day, probably a hundred times or more.
In hindsight, COVID-19 will forever remind me to “take the trip, buy the shoes, and eat the cake”.
While the pleasures of freedoms-past visit me daily, it has me planning for future delights.
As the spring semester of my son’s sophomore year in college comes to a close, I'm not going to lie -- he does miss being on campus. But an interesting phenomenon has unfolded in my house.
Last week I sat in my new home office--otherwise known as my daughter’s old bedroom--looking at an 800 page deposition transcript that I had to read. Rather than sit in the office and read, I moved to my living room. I made myself a cup of coffee, put my feet up and began reading.
Friday, I was finally able to set up outside. I even tweeted about it (See pic above left.). This morning I expect to get some final pieces in place for the deck. It requires a curbside pickup but I prefer not endure a weekday delivery and interference with my workdays/week upcoming
After wiping off all my groceries, I'm not sure I like grapes that smell like baby wipes
Without looking online, I try to guess what's in the Amazon box that's delivered to my front porch seemingly every day
I wonder why I still have a land line. The only people that call want to sell me something.
I'm hoping landscapers learn there are electric mowers and blowers that don't require ear plugs