Grey Novemberish Mother's Day, study window open to the woodsmoke smells and the sight of the rapidly diminishing cherry blossoms two doors down. Brother came by to collect mail, still being delivered next door, and to help me flip my mattress endwise, which I can no longer do. He says there are places that will not only sell me a new one but install it and take away the old one as well. I'm reluctant to buy a pig in a poke mattress without testing its firmness, though some of these mattress in a box people do say you can return it within x many days if unsatisfactory. I don't think they install, but maybe I could call on some of these 'if you need anything just call us' types for aid. Am reluctant to do so because IME people who say that are never there when you need the help, and I really can't distinguish between people who mean it and the 'talk is cheap' ones.
Bro is tired of the lockdown. So am I, come to that. Talking to Mrs. Prof. Islamic Studies the other day as she gardened suggested to me that casual in-person conversation does wonders to alleviate my Eeyore mindset. Silver lining-wise, I half-hope that all the Covidiot states telling Biden 'we don't need no more vaccines' means we'll get more up here and I can get my second shot maybe three months after the first instead of four-- even as I know the vaccines ought to go to India and the people here stuck in factories and big box stores and processing plants.