There’s a weekend-long dance workshop in town. While she’s certainly not our first house guest, the situation feels brand new. It must be the Japanese mattress we just bought, which turns our one-bedroom shoebox of an apartment into a temporary bed and breakfast (and lunch and dinner) for Anneli, the journalist from Sweden.

It’s curious to see my response to a bout of Covid is not much different from what it was in early 2020. Despite a negative test, symptoms tell me everything I need to know. I have to remind myself every day this week that, given the regulations, I’m not obliged to quarantine. Nevertheless, Anja and I are both barely able to walk the dog. I work half days, and spend my afternoons in bed with hot water bottles.

What I love most about today’s snapshot is the despair I can see in Lemonade’s eyes even when her entire body is a background blur. DJ is a calm 12-year-old dog, and Lemonade was thrilled to see another dog in our home for the first time, but her energy level was high enough that I eventually brought her back to her crate. It was right in time, too, because the afternoon light filling the living room made for a nice little portrait.

Three wins

1. Gave a successful presentation during a company-wide meeting, and it prompted the responses and follow-ups I had aimed for
2. Took my first walk to the nearby park with friends who returned from a month-long holiday
3. Went to Sunday’s church service without crutches for the first time since the accident

Upon opening the jar of coconut oil (for cooking, hair, and skin care), right when my finger makes contact with what is too solid for comfort, I think of Iris and her graduation party, which was an utter calamity. Iris and I had attended kindergarten together, but it was by the grace of my cousin’s status as a pretty blonde girl that I even knew about any of the parties. From the moment we arrived, it was clear that it was a mistake for anybody to be there; at least for those who had received invitations to other parties. I couldn’t tell on which side of the pause my cousin belonged, but she had in her eyes the boredom of a person who has choices.

When I first set foot in the Old Catholic Church to attend an All Saints service, I knew I had found a special place. Today is the third time I make it to their service, which is always on the second Sunday of the month.