Yesterday Paul and I welcomed our very first post-vaccine visitor into our house: our next-door neighbor Valerie, who came bearing blondie bars and a huge smile. I can't tell you how lovely this was: three unmasked people sitting in a living room together, talking about this and that, drinking ice tea and eating sweets, and meanwhile the late May warmth pouring in through the open windows. In the before-times, who would have thought twice about such an interaction? But the day felt like a holiday. Hours later, when Tom came home, Paul was still bubbling about it: "Guess what? We had company!"

Today I've got some weeding to do, but otherwise who knows? I'd like to sit outside and work on revisions. I'd like to make haddock fettuccine for dinner. I'll probably water some plants and wash some clothes. I've started reading Donald Hall's essay collection Seasons at Eagle Pond--an autographed copy that I found in a free pile--and today I'll also turn my attention Kerrin McCadden's poetry collection American Wake.

I'm beginning, very slowly, to feel like a poet again.