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Everywhere I go I find a pal

Everywhere I go  I find a pal Everywhere I go  I find a pal

Peter Weinschenk, Editor, The Record-Review

The weather forecast for Sunday indicates light snow.

This drives me crazy.

The issue here isn’t the cold, the slush on the ground or the interruption of spring. Rather, it is the thought of having to retrieve my snow shovel stored in a corner of my barn’s upper level… again.

I thought I had given Mother Nature plenty of time to transition from an extralong winter to spring. Only then did I put my shovel away. But then we got dumped on. I had to retrieve the shovel. Now, potentially, I have to make friends with my old, orange-handled friend again.

Well, at least I won’t have to mow the grass.


Speaking of things that drive me crazy… did I mention COVID-19?

It’s not enough that this horrible disease has killed more people than those who died in the Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan wars combined and tossed the American economy in the ditch, but I have to fight a maddening war against germs. It’s frustrating.

Thus I gas up the family car at a nearby convenience store and, basically, all hell breaks loose.

I go to the pump, toss in my debit card, push buttons and lift the pump handle, but then I remember that the general public, a certain percentage of which are COVID-19 carriers, have just done the same. I could have worn a nitrile glove I carry with me, but, of course, I forgot. I use the windshield cleaner brush, potentially infecting myself further.

Now, convinced I am radioactive with COVID-19, I go into my car to get some Purell alcohol wipes, but, in getting to the wipes, I have slimed my car door handle, a seat cushion and a work bag with a possible deadly stew of viruses. I wipe my hands off, but then, painstakingly, wipe down the car handle, the seat cushion and the work bag. I imagine I am fighting a disease, but who really knows.

The kicker is returning home and washing the hand sanitizer off my hands.

Yes, this is crazy making, but I am grateful I am healthy and have the luxury of trying to prevent rather than suffer COVID-19.

I do it, of course, not just for me, but all of the people I am close to. Washing my hands is an act of love.


I know state Republicans have taken Gov. Tony Evers to court over Safer at Home rules to combat COVID-19.

Is that right or wrong? That’s a whole conversation, but I’m thankful that the governor hasn’t banned fishing as part of social distancing rules, which has happened in various states.

After spending months couped up in my home, it was wondrous on Saturday to venture up to the Prairie River and toss a fly at some resident brook and brown trout.

I walked the river for five hours. Glorious.

The fishing was terrible, but, you know, it didn’t matter. My outing was not on a computer screen. It was in the real world. And that’s a good place to be.