April 21 is almost over. Life as we knew it before the pandemic is peeking in, like sunlight in mostly closed blinds. Exterior activity that was already pretty lively in the city has a new mask-free lease on life, following the latest CDC recommendations.
I’m heartened by the vac numbers, locally and beyond. Where the country began so poorly in managing this effort, they have reversed course. Effective leadership makes a difference.
Physically, I’ve felt like a bear slowly coming out of hibernation. The new softball season began on April 18 with a doubleheader, then some of us had lunch. It seemed to mark the longest stint I’ve had outside with a group of (vaccinated) people in a long time. The off-season practices have kept me with at least a paw in the sunlight, but it’s fair to say I’ve had a hermit-like year and even more thankful for the company of my husband and my dog.
Between the weeding and the fact that it’s bloom time of the year, the garden is exploding in color. One thing that didn’t make it this season was the stinky Voodoo Lily, a certain pit bull that will go nameless, flattened it in one of her many wild runs. It’s impressive that we have plants.
Yesterday I walked to the BART train station without a mask. It felt good and weird. Like a gunslinger, I had it, at the ready, in my pocket should I encounter other town folks. You’ve got to be careful here in the Wild West; folks will pop out of anywhere. And naturally, my cloth barrier was back on before I entered transportation. This is where I’m at.
Next week, I’m rolling up some blinds, as my friend Joel (vaccinated) is visiting from Las Vegas. I’m looking forward to catching up and talking about our fall travel trip to London (we hope). If theater is happening again, I want to check it out.
The Beard and the Cap 
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