I caught a snapshot of my husband, upon his return from work at the hospital.
After disinfection – given his involvement with corona virus patients – I found him examining his ‘war scars’ in the reflection of a mirror.
I wonder, sometimes, what the depth of healthcare workers’ scars will be, once all is said and done.
And not necessarily just those on the outside, but also, the ones on the inside.
I bought an unreasonable amount of asparagus, put on a new apron, became a bride for several seconds, and somehow dinner still got made.
I took a quick break from building things to open a gift from Japan. Somehow, I ended up with new earrings, a tiny lesson in ASMR, and the packaging on my wrist.
My son needed stitches. The next morning, he wanted pancakes. This felt like a perfectly reasonable time to forget my usual healthy swaps.