Sunday, March 14, 2021

 The cat is thoroughly enjoying the annual time-change confusion: "Wow! 4:30 is really 5:30 and Dawn has to get up!" So here I am, blinky and groggy, saying good-morning to you.

Yesterday's class went well: some good first drafts from the participants, and I wrote at least one myself that might be worth tinkering with. It was fun to be back in conversation about poems.

I'm not quite sure what I'll be doing today. Maybe cleaning bathrooms. Maybe sewing. Maybe trying to work outside in the chill. James got his first vaccine shot yesterday, so I feel as if I ought to have a party. Tom and I are both so relieved about this. Given his job conditions, we've had serious worries about his health.

His vaccination site was the parking lot of the United Center, which is the arena where the Chicago Bulls play. Here's what he texted me:

It was easy. There were a lot of people there but the line moved quickly and it seemed well run. Everything took place in semi-permanent tents and it was staffed by the military. Lots of signs in every language and lots of temporary barriers. Everything you'd expect from a FEMA vaccination site.

It almost felt like a music festival except there was no music and a lot more old people.

Meanwhile, cooks keep quitting or getting fired at Paul's workplace, and Paul keeps getting saddled with their hours, plus it's Pi Day (March 14), which is apparently a dreaded day at pizza parlors because everyone thinks it's a good idea to order large round food, and the cooks will be swamped.

For dinner last night we had Portuguese seafood stew, with mussels, clams, hake, and chourico. I also brought home cannoli from the Italian market--the first time I've shopped there since last February. Truly, these pandemic meals have been an enormous comfort to all of us. With so little to look forward to, we focus hard on dinner. It's been a responsibility: to be the creator of the day's most exciting moment. But I think I've done okay.

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