Diago, the super tortoise.

Well, I have a cure for the pandemic blues, but first, what’s happening in the world?

In Ecuador, ‘Diago, the giant Galapagos tortoise whose tireless efforts are credited with almost single-handedly saving his once-threatened species, was put out to pasture Monday on his native island after decades of breeding in captivity.’ HERE

At one point in my life, I would have thought saving an entire species by having sex with every last woman would be awesome (human women, not tortoises), but now I just think how exhausting that would be. No wonder he retired to sit in his study, smoke a cigar, and watch MASH reruns. My hat is off to you, sir. Well done.

In New Zealand, they had their first case since announcing they were 100% Covid19 free. It reminds me of cleaning the house only to have someone race through it with dirty paws. Yes, Vegas, I’m looking at you.

Sure, Vegas doesn’t mean to be a pain, like the person who visited NZ infected with the virus, but we need to stop them and wipe their feet before they go anywhere. Metaphorically speaking.

Locally, gas is around $1.25, our grocery stores are out of oatmeal (are so many people now eating the stuff?), and traffic seems to be back to normal – which is to say, heavy. More people are in parks, most without masks, and more are definitely in stores, also without masks. Seems masks are not much of a thing anymore despite what our lovely Dr. Henry says.

I also see a lot of older men now wandering the stores like me. They stare at something on the shelf, confused, then look at their shopping list, trying to figure out if that’s the organic grain-fed anchovies from Antarctica that their wife absolutely needs for her next recipe.

It got me to thinking. Maybe they’re being sent on impossible missions on purpose, like bringing down the Death Star or getting through to the Shaw help desk people. Maybe their wives have had enough of them at home, shuffling around, reorganizing bathroom cabinets, or recounting how far tougher life was back in the day. Maybe their wives just needed a few hours of peace and quiet, and what better way than to send them to that very foreign place, the grocery store, and have them hunt for Timorian vanilla hemp milk. Some, I think, never make it back.

But as for the cure for the blues, well, it’s a visit from your family that you haven’t seen or hugged in 6 months. The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World was beside herself with happiness at the prospect of hugging her mom, seeing her little niece, and having some quality facetime with people she loves.

I tell you, don’t underestimate the healing value of a hug. Or laughing as you chase a 1 1/2-year-old who’s full-of-beans around the house, trying to stop them from getting into mischief.

It was solid gold fun.

We kept our bubble small, and if the truth be told, we knew the people we saw had practiced healthy mitigation procedures, so we had very high confidence that none of them had contracted the virus.

However, I think we all needed that social contract for our sanity. I mean, who could not laugh when you ask a 1 1/2-year-old where her nose is, and she sticks her finger right up it?

Anyway, like a remote getting a new set of batteries, we feel recharged here in our little part of the world.

It’s a good feeling.

So, until the next blog, stay safe, stay healthy, and respect this new world.