Sadly, a covid-19 birthday is very memorable

The excitement began building late last year. Come May Isla would be seven. Mom would rent a room at a party palace. There would be games and pizza and friends, lots and lots of friends. At least once a week the little girl would ask how many weeks until my birthday. It was a long countdown made longer by the unrelenting anticipation.

And then—wham!—the coronavirus: Covid-19. It ended schooling for the year. It brought mom home. It put the grandparents off limits. And the much anticipated seventh birthday bash, it wouldn't happen.

Kids all over the world suffered the same fate when it came to their birthdays. In the covid-19 world, birthdays come and go quietly, not unnoticed but not loudly celebrated either. Isla's grandparents dropped off a gift. She opened it on the driveway. Her grandparents could not enter the home. It was off limits to them. The gift was a kitchen set. Isla quickly carried it into the home. 

No point waiting about. A covid-19 birthday does not have hugs. No kisses. No one, other than mom, dad and her older sister, can get closer to her than six feet. Isolation does not make for great birthdays. All around the world, thousands of kids are learning covid-19 birthdays may not be great but they will be memorable. Unforgettable, in fact.

It would be sad except for the fact that it was a seventh birthday. Seven! Think about it. Turning seven cannot be a bad thing. Never. And then there is that kitchen set.

At the moment, Detroit is infinitly far from London Ontario

When I was a boy in the '50s I lived in Windsor, Ontario. That's the city immediately across the Detroit River from the city of the same name. Crossing the border was easy. A ten-year-old could do it, and a ten-year-old did.

In the '60s and '70s Canadians living near the border, would visit Detroit. It was an exciting city to visit with a rich mix of restaurants, stores and shops, art gallery and a big-city zoo. Back then lots of Londoners made a day trip to the big city and as often as not the big city of choice was Detroit rather than Toronto.

This art work was done in those distant years by Detroit artist Ronald Scarborough. It looks at first glance like a signed and numbered lithograph. On careful inspection one realizes it is a very good half-tone print. This print is from a numbered run of 900 copies.

An unsophisticated Canadian visitor might think they were getting an incredible bargain when buying this Scarborough print for only $10 in a Detroit private gallery. They weren't but they were not getting ripped off either. The price was fair for a mass produced copy. As a halftone and not a lithograph one could say it came from a run of 900 copies and was not part of an edition of 900 prints.

Over the years the private galleries closed. Many of the restaurants closed. Big stores, like Hudson's and Kerr's, and small stores, too, closed. The trip from London to Detroit seemed two hours too long. Today the border at Detroit is closed. The covid-19 virus has put the once grand city of Detroit off limits. And yet, for many, the draw had already become very weak. Many crossed the border only to reach the Interstate and immediately leave the city without stopping to head quickly south.

My Ronald Scarborough print hangs in a front hallway, its white paper slowly turning yellow. The image, like the city it came from, has faded with the passing time.

Self-isolating is not all bad

You say no school to a parent and they tremble with anxiety. No schooling. No learning. How will the kids get by? Say no school to my granddaughters and they hear "hammock."

Although they may not be rushing about in the morning to catch the school bus and then spending all day in a crowded classroom, they are still doing some school work every day via a couple of home computers.

How much are they learning? That is an open question. Their parents are still anxious and the kids are still spending chunks of each spring day enjoying the hammock.

Neighbourhood asparagus stand is open

The land must be valuable. If it were growing new homes rather than shoots of asparagus, I'm sure the owners would be far wealthier.

The family growing and selling the asparagus has been doing this for decades. They've been doing it for so long that their crop is unique. It is an old hybrid no longer commonly grown in the province.

One year the Ontario asparagus crop failed. Rust. There was no locally grown asparagus in the grocery stores. But the little Greenland Asparagus stand had fresh, green spears for sale. Their crop was not the hybrid being attacked. It was not affected by the rust spores floating in the air everywhere in the province.

I worry about the little farm. Finding folk to pick the crop is getting harder and harder with each passing year. I fear that one year it will homes or stores filling the fields and not haphazard rows of an ancient asparagus hybrid.

Normal is looking more normal

The day is warm and London's biggest park, Springbank, had a sprinkling of people engaged in a number of activities: walking, jogging, skateboarding and biking.

Oh, the pandemic is still modifying behaviour. Most people seemed to be giving others a very wide berth. Social distancing was clearly still in force.

And yet, there was a back to normal  feel to the day that may not be bested until a vaccine is released.

Life goes on

I read an article in The Lancet, I believe, that said we should learn from this covid-19 pandemic. We have been taken down by our hubris.What is hubris? Excessive self-confidence. Pride in oneself bordering on defiance of the gods.

We are changing the planet. Modifying the only home we have and we are doing it in way that can only bring disaster. Covid-19 is a window on the future.

I can recall as a small boy worrying that the immense herds of wild animals found in Africa back in the early '50s were threatened. My mom thought I asked too many questions. I thought adults didn't ask enough.

This little wren is living a life modified by the fact it lives in close proximity to us. But, take us away and this little bird's life will go on. It appreciates us but it doesn't need us. But, in a very real sense, we don't fully appreciate nature and the wild world but we need it. And, we need to keep it rich and diverse and somewhat separate. We need to respect the others with whom we share this planet. Wildlife markets are not places of respect.

The lonely tulip. It was missed by the rabbits.

Off with their heads. Or at least, off with the blooms. One lonely tulip stands in my wife's garden. Left intact, so far, by the grazing rabbits. My guess is that come morning it too will be gone. Heck, even I can see it is probably quite delicious, cool in the evening air and covered with moist raindrops. I'm sure it is not only very pretty but yummy as well.