The clematis and thyme are planted, but the foxgloves and parsley are still in pots on the patio. I ran out of gas yesterday after cleaning the barbecue and shovelling a year's worth of ash out of the firepit.

When COVID-19 is a distant memory, I will still keep a few masks for messy jobs like sweeping the garage and anything involving wood ash. I coughed for hours when last I cleaned the fireplace without a mask, but last night I slept as if drugged despite having spent what felt like half the afternoon in a cloud of fine grey dust.

Pity I don't know anybody who makes soap from scratchy-scratch.

It seems like just yesterday that Sunday was the Sabbath, observed with church, brunch, something fun in the afternoon, and a nice dinner. Now it's just another Groundhog Day. Of all the changes wrought by COVID, that might be the one I resent most consistently, if not the most bitterly.