Just in time for flu season, this year’s citrus crop from my parents was – oh, I have to say it – fruitful. Ha. I couldn’t help myself.
We received our package yesterday filled with tangerines grown in my parents’ backyard. Each year around Christmas or after the New Year, depending on the first frost and citrus fruits’ finicky harvest schedules, my mom and dad send boxes of tangerines and Valencia oranges to my family in Wisconsin, who traditionally send blocks of Wisconsin cheese and cheese curds in return. This year, Matt and I were able to get in the trading game a bit when we shipped my folks two gallons of pecans in return for these tangerines. Perhaps I should send some pecans to Wisconsin in exchange for some real Wisconsin cheese curds.
Huh, why didn’t I think of that earlier?
I remember a long time ago reading in one of the Little House books of one particular Christmas morning on which Laura and Mary each received only an orange in their stockings. Can you imagine? The grueling hardships like those of pioneer life are things I wish to never have to endure, unless by choice, and that’s unlikely. We live in a world that gives us what we want every day, every season, every year, but I can only guess that my excitement upon opening this box of tangerines was very faintly similar to how the Ingalls girls felt on that Christmas morning.
So I have finally decided to get my first flu shot in my life seeing as the country has gone completely mad with flu-scare stories. Does an early start to the flu season mean it will be a more dangerous virus? Should my healthy 11-year old get one, too? Why can’t I just run away into the woods with my family and our box of tangerines until everyone learns how to wash their hands? Oh, so many questions.