The Native Iowan

It’s a Wednesday morn here in QLD. I’m starting slow. Enjoying the cool weather this morn, wrapped in a granny-blanket and listened to the daily Cornavirus update from the White House.

A couple things come to mind… I am very impressed how the Trump Administration stand in the firing line taking questions. They’ve been at it for well over an hour. They are not shy. They stand there and take question after question. Unprecedented in the way Trump is making this team available to the press. Even as the never-ever Trumpsters complains and cry and dissemble.

I hear the negative-left grumbling that “he’s not nice”. Just another reality TV show. They are wrong. Way working. It is unprecedented the access this Administration is offering.

I watch as the same “journalists” reword well worn verbal land mines, day after day. It becomes a bit annoying when these arrogant people grandstand in what I feel is a very civilised and professional public information venue. But I guess its part of their job to be small minded and uncivil.

My tribe is doing well. Boys and little girls have on-line schooling. Or, rather, the boys have school and Paul n Betsy has set up school for the little girls. 3yrold Nova is cute, puts on a uniform and sits as quiet as possible as the big guys are in class. Mind you, 3yrolds do not sit quiet well.

Grace and I are cleaning up the yard and getting the veggie garden ready for the southern, winter season.

Today I’ll use the chainsaw and get things ready for a big burn. It’s nice being on a property. It’s nice to have all the room. But it takes a fair amount of effort. A positive, old-fart merry-making effort.

I used to be both perplexed and angry when my parents took such perverse joy in their “gardening” exploits. As a kid, I considered it to be slave labour. I very much enjoyed the “fruits of our labours”, but I hated the work. I rebelled. Got in trouble. It was not fun at all.

These days its is all a pleasure.

Yesterday I prepared the-big-bed for planting. A few days ago Grace had thrown organic fertiliser on the ground and covered all with the remnants of the pumpkin crop. Left all the thick, green pumpkin vines on the bed to have the nutrients therein leached into the soil.

I pulled the vines off and dumped a bunch of well munched top soil onto the bed. I then dug it all with a good garden fork. Along with a bunch of trimming in the orchard, I worked only a few hours, less than 4 complete hours of effort. It rained while I was at this so enjoyed working in the rain. But I note my age. I sleep real well.

I do feel my age today.

One of the interesting recent happenings is the fact that good ol-fashioned chloroquine is a good prophylaxis and treatment for covid. This makes me happy. I am well acquainted with the use of chloroquine and other malarial treatments. After 40 years in the tropics I have pretty much used all the malarial drugs. I have no idea how many times Ive had malaria. Many, many. Every member of my family has had it, from very young, recurring through life. Considering Malaria remains a major cause of death world wide, I still keep a supply of malarial drugs on hand. It’s part of being a tropical sorta guy.

Unavailable in Brisbane or Des Moinse, chloroquine is an across the counter drug in many countries. For SBD$17.00/ $3.00 in real money, you can buy a 4 day treatment. And being intimate with malaria, as I am, I am confident this will both defend and heal in the current state of play. My plan is to hang on to the 6x4day treatments I have, and use if covid gets in the door. If it arrives, we’ll treat those ill and protect those well.

And then beat goes on.

Stay well.

Smile always