Do you remember Gilligan’s Island? That was a fun show, eh?
I was always amazed that they had a man there who could pretty much make an xray machine in a coconut but he couldn’t patch a six inch hole in a wooden boat that looked to me to be above the water line.
But let’s leave that to one side for now.
The thing I want to address is the seclusion of them being on an island. The isolation, that’s the thing.
I’m on my own island
Now that the world has become a place of individual isolation for many of us, I and my imagination have taken to referring to life at home as being on Kelly’s Island.
The fun part of this is that the phrase originated when we installed the new island in our kitchen, I declared that it was to be called Kelly’s Island.
A bit of history
And since then I realized that the term was already familiar to me because of my family name, or rather my grandmother’s family name. She was Clara Kelly and she came from a town in Newfoundland known to be a pirate hangout, the town of Bare Need.
And that town is now part of the municipality of Bay Roberts on Conception Bay. And in Conception Bay there is an island called Kelly Island, so named, as one story would have it, because a pirate named Captain Kelly would make use of the island for ship repairs.
How likely is it that that captain whose name was given to the island might have had family in Bare Need from whom my grandmother may have descended? In statistical parlance … fifty – fifty.
Getting back to being in isolation and referring to that as being on my island, Kelly’s Island, I’m okay with this new world order, at least for now. I’m stuck in one place for the most part with only the occasional outing in the launch (car) for supplies and stores (groceries and stuff) and time on my hands to do things I would normally just wish I could do.
Well, actually, that’s pretty much my life anyway. I work from home, I am without supervision so I usually can do what I want, though there are expectations and some deadlines.
So really, Kelly’s Island has always existed, the isolation has just drawn my attention to it, made me realize my situation, forced me to consider the way I live.
I think that I need to accept this new way of thinking about my life as the new norm.
I think that, like the way the light of diagnosis was shone on my ADHD, the recognition of my life here on my island of seclusion might well help me function better in these trying times, and in the new future we will all soon be experiencing.
And who knows what wonderful inventions might come of me realizing these new circumstances, I mean, no one’s expecting a banana powered nuclear reactor, but no one is discounting the possibility yet, right?