We have a mug on the kitchen windowsill; planted with a few miniature daffodils, it's just coming into bloom. How did that friend know we'd need and be comforted by her gift?

I'm grateful for the slides we've dug out of the mess; yet like anything else I have to extract them from the debris and clean them, bringing soot and cinders into the apartment. This latest batch must be cut from the charred and melted plastic sleeves. I can't get to some in the middle without some of the tools we don't have anymore.

maeve