Date: Wed, 1 Apr 2020 11:02:22 -0400
From: Brad Page
Subject: Corona Journal #3
3/31/2020
“Belle of Natchez”
By Ogden Nash
There was a young belle of old Natchez
Who ripped all her garments to patchez.
When comment arose
On the state of her clothes
She drawled, When Ah itches, Ah scratches.
Poor Dr. Anthony S. Fauci, the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, who dropped his head and rubbed his forehead. And on TV! Touching the face has become so politically weaponized there are those who see a vast and deep state conspiracy behind being caught on the tube merely touching the forehead, a statement of dissent.
I miss scratching, that freeiest of all actions. And where do I scratch most? Hah! Same as you. Now my face is barriered by Kleenex from those oh-so-comforting and devilish finger tips. No matter what, the itches come. I used to love spring for its low humidity. No more. The casual face scratch goes the way of the Dodo, at least for some time in the unknown future.
Whiplash scratches with passionate abandon. Being a furry beast his skin is dry always, his coat long and thick. He loves to wander the neighborhood on the coldest nights and has for 15 years. Some folks disapprove of this. He will have none of it. I groom him with a fine comb and dense wire brush, which he loves and which I pray will lessen the clumps of hair that litter my carpet and clog the vacuum cleaner. And, speaking of clumps, he tends to knot his fur up in various private places and I have to cut them away on the outward side of a comb. He purrs through the whole ordeal, brave kitty, trusting that these old paws will snip without nicks.
Soon, as summer comes we will become the land of chiggers and ticks. For those of you so foolish as to tread the woods I wish good luck. Get out the duct tape and mosquito repellant. Now you carry the added burden of another of nature’s pests mixed with luscious beauty in Central North Carolina.
The Whipper and I have become indoor creatures. I laud your bravery, or foolishness. I compromise by opening windows and storm doors with screens. Never have much cared for conditioned air. I imagine that’s a result of having been raised in Coconino County, Arizona where it was necessary to wear a sweater on the cool summer nights.