I read, and there are vague out the corner of the eye memories attached to reading, but they're largely of weather seen out the window. No personal interaction means no memory. Even my various convalescences involved people, but of course, as I must remember, half the time the people were next door and none of them involved five weeks inside.
Something like warmth returns to the world, and spring melancholy comes with it. Winter kept us warm as recently as last week, and it's no hardship to be indoors in winter, sleeping luxuriously in to all hours while the furnace purrs and the windows rattle in the wind. But now... it's not outside I want to be so much as uncrippled, since today was a very crippled day when knees simply wouldn't stop seizing up on me.
But I made it to the laundromat at least, and got a set of sheets and towels washed. So, accomplishment.
