As someone who laughed heartily in the faces of the Bird, Asian, Hong Kong and Swine Flu bugs, I’m actually a bit concerned about the re-badged ‘Deadly’ Ebola Virus. Call me a sook, but there’s something about bleeding from the eyeballs, ears and backside that makes me a tad anxious.
Humans have been dealing with epidemics ever since the very first sailors lurched off their ships and asked the gawping locals to inspect their oozing black boils, rib wracking coughs or rapidly spreading rashes.
But thanks to modern air travel, a disease can zip around the world in less than a day, and upon arrival, spend some quality time in crowded subways, bowling alleys, shopping centres, sporting stadiums, restaurants or cruise ships.
This year Ebola is taking a world tour, and I reckon it should be dealt with like our streets’ weed problem.
You see, the yard down the road was a bindii hotspot, and although our neighbor had promised to deal with it, he didn’t, so we were reduced to spraying the weeds as they drifted over our fence or arrived with the Postie bike.
Ignoring them wasn’t an option; I had to nail the weeds at their source, so late one evening I shipped Long Suffering Wife off down the road with my backpack sprayer.
Knowing she would return covered with bindii seeds (and possibly dog bites), I gave her a thorough wash down with the garden hose before letting her back into our yard. She wasn’t very impressed with my quarantine programme, and apparently our neighbor was less than impressed with her for turning his ‘lawn’ into a desert.
But our yards are now weed free and they’ll hopefully stay that way until next Spring when, no doubt, there will be some new threat for me to worry about.