Walking the dog in an age of coronavirus 3

      Yesterday I was mulling over possible themes for today's blog: anatomy, (the skeleton and other things), holidays, (Turkey), and memories, (salient moments from the past), all of which, one way or another could be linked to the present crisis; and then as life would have it, "events dear boy" kicked in; and chief among them was the news that our irrepressible friend Tony, has been diagnosed with lung cancer. He is a man who likes a "flutter" (a daily bet on the horses,) so his first priority, after an early morning cup of tea, is to scour the sporting pages fore races, runners and riders. It is a disciplined way of life, that as far as I know, has never got him in to trouble, and with the betting shop just around the corner, he can be present by his absence.  As for the future, little is known until they see the oncologist in a week or so. But yesterday, Margaret told us, that he was sitting up in bed with a cooked breakfast, and the Racing Post.
      Now thinking about Tony it seemed that a good theme for today would be - the reality check - and sure enough it can be linked in, with ease, to the theme of
"Walking the dog in an age of coronavirus", because for those of us in "lockdown," a term I loathe, perspective is everything.
      Well today at the crack of dawn, I didn't see yesterday's dog walker, the man with the dog not much bigger than a cat, who was anxiously steering it away from Amber, and telling it to "behave." But what I did see in the maze of quiet residential streets, were luminous satchels passing at speed: girls, and boys, whose job it was to push the morning paper through the letterbox. And the bins were out for the refuse collectors. In the "old days" we used to call them "bin men," and such was the disgusting state of the bins, that the "operatives" must have been immune to every disease known to man. As for the return leg of the journey, our walk takes us along a busy artery along which was a steady flow of traffic. And yes, (for those of you who read blog 2), the manager of the funeral home was in and at her desk. And there is work going on nearer home, in the garden of a man I know to talk to. I once had a chat with him about his battery powered lawnmower, and then went out and bought one; and I recall him telling me, that before she died, his wife had asked him to be sure and take care of the garden. But age must be taking its toll, because while keeping his borders and central shrubs in place, new classy brick surrounds have been put down, ready for the laying of artificial grass.
       Now we were not long back from our walk, when Jenny came to tell me that the Covid19 droplets can stay in the atmosphere for up to three hours, the point being, that in my early morning walk someone, (unseen), might have passed by and I, unwittingly, have picked up the virus. In reply, and sensing the anxiety in her voice, I suggested that we had to be careful not to become over anxious, and that this early morning routine for walking Amber, was the best we could do; and in response, she readily accepted that not walking Amber, was just not an option. And so, in that moment of anxiety, I didn't tell her of the woman who came past as we were walking through an alleyway; she was bright and cheerful, but oblivious to the fact that she should have stayed back until we had reached the top of the alley. Fortunately, I had my back to her as she passed, and further up the alleyway, she coughed.
      As the song says, "what will be will be" and as a consequence of being advised to stay at home, and Jenny having a compromised immune system, we will not be travelling to Yorkshire for her mother's funeral. Slowly, but surely, friends, who would have attended, have dropped out,  and now it is our turn to be there in spirit via a video link.
      Now such is the state of affairs that we have canceled and reclaimed the fee that we paid for accommodation to airbnb, and the taxi, that in April would have taken us to the airport for a holiday flight to Turkey, and I couldn't help but be mindful, that our cancellations were but a mirror image of what is going on on a grand scale. And the good news, for there is some, Saga are refunding the full cost of the holiday.
      Now as it would be remiss of me to leave you feeling depressed, so here are a few exciting themes, left over from today, that I might write about tomorrow, or whenever: Why I wear boots to Church on Sundays, whatever the weather. How it has come to pass that the colour of my eyes no longer match, to say nothing of  which bits and pieces in the body, are surplus to requirements, and how it has come about  that I am especially intrigued by this passage from the Canticle of Zechariah :

"In the tender compassion of our God
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness, and in the
   shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace."

And lest I forget, why I have committed to cleaning the house - every second Thursday.
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   ©   Cormac E. McCloskey