We kicked off the weekend with our first takeout in more than a month, with pizza from our favorite shop in D.C. I also did a little grocery shopping as I was waiting and drove for the first time in months.

I do not have six hours of recreational video conferencing planned this weekend, thank goodness, but I do hope to connect with a friend using the old fashioned, voice-only method.

I’ve placed some pre-orders for the farmers market, where I expect to be able to pick up my first asparagus and strawberries of the season.

I’m going to spend some time in my garden, where I expect to pick some greens, string up more runs for my peas, and put some sprouting potatoes in the ground, as well as do some general maintenance as part of my community garden work duties.

There is always laundry to be done. How???

With at least another month of working at home, I’m going to shift some things around and see how working at my desk feels. It predates computers and is higher and more slanted than ergonomics suggest ideal, but I’m also certain that working on my couch and in a rocking chair are not physiologically recommended. Plus, then I can see if I can make Rudi’s old monitor work as a second screen for my work laptop.

I need to do some baking, as we’re out of cookies and will soon use up the mid-week bread.

I should go for a bike ride. Sunday might be a nice day for that.

There will be some knitting and some reading, too.

What’s on your weekend agenda?

I thought I’d share a sense (or five) of what’s going on in the Burrow tonight:

Seeing: A mostly clear couch, thanks this to this weekend’s video chats. Little stretches of Christmas lights, still going strong at the edges of the room by the windows.

Smelling: A slight whiff of vinegar, from our belated dyeing of Easter eggs earlier.

Tasting: A slight hint of the cocoa I drank earlier.

Hearing: The whir of the bathroom fan, which is tied to the light, which I left on after I hung up the laundry to dry in the bathtub. Birds tweeting to each other outside now that it’s not raining. (They call out for much of the overnight.) Corey fidgeting in the box next to the couch.

Feeling: Corey’s soft fur. A chill — which came over the living room after the rain stopped and which is hitting my bare toes especially hard. The heaviness that comes with sleepiness.

What’s it like where you’re reading this from?

I have deleted, pre-publication, the post I just wrote about the rain. At the outset, I had acknowledged it could be worse, but then I devolved into a whiny, complaining post anyway.

And we all know how much the universe loves a whiner? “Oh, you think you’ve got it bad? Let’s show you that you had it pretty good five minutes ago.”

So I will not complain about the rain and the effects it will have later on. I will be glad that I have a roof over my head and a dry bed in which to sleep. I have shoes that are not holey. I have towels and newspaper that I can put down on the floor before I go to bed. I have cash that can be turned into quarters for the dryer. I can hear the thunder and take a deep breath to calm myself. I do not have children I have to entertain or comfort. I have paying, meaningful work to distract me from borrowing trouble. I will take stock and decide that in the grand scheme of things this is merely another inconvenience and one that we can get through. The sun will return and we will be okay.

Wishing you and your family the best possible Easter. It may not look the same as normal, but if we’re all still here to celebrate it in this new way, it’s still a win.

(And if there are gaps in your family where there didn’t used to be, then I’m sending very big hugs to you, because that really, really sucks.)

My plan for this weekend looks a lot like the rest of my week, except that it starts later in the day.

We’ve got video chats planned both days — one with college friends (and with whom we’ve not been in the same spot all together in nearly two decades) and one with my family.

I’m going to go to the garden. There are more violets to pick and lettuces to thin. There are communal chores to be completed alone (or, at least, alone with Rudi if he’s around).

The farmers market continues to be open on Sunday, although they’ve got new plans in place to cut down on exposure, and they’ve closed the composting. We can still take ours to the garden, but it’s definitely more work that way.

I expect to do some baking. The sourdough starter needs to be fed, which means it’s a good day to make bread. I have a shortbread recipe I want to bake, once Rudi tells me where he’s organized my semolina to. Plus, I might make scones for Sunday’s breakfast or pie our supper.

I need to do some tidying, because while I’ve got spots where one person can do a video chat respectably, that spot is not my couch, where both of us can sit together.

I’d like to send some mail. The stationery box is out, although it’s not especially well organized, and I keep having to sort through everything in my quest to find the type of card I’m looking for.

I hope to do some knitting. I wound a new ball of yarn during a call earlier this week. Plus, I have several projects I’m already working on.

I’d love it if Rudi wants to listen to some more of Good Omens. Or maybe Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. I understand the free copy that’s floating around all the libraries may be the Stephen Fry version (heretofore not available in the U.S.), and I’d love to see how he measures up to Jim Dale’s recitation. On my own, I’m listening to the the third Inspector Gamache novel and have Meg Cabot’s Size 12 Is Not Fat for if that gets too tense to listen to late at night.

There is always laundry to be done, although we are down to our last roll of quarters. Acquiring more requires hitting an atm for cash and then finding a bank that will exchange bills for coins. The one by our apartment has closed for the time being, but Rudi thinks there may be one nearby that’s still open, at least some days.

I have to get some extra walking in. I did better this week at getting outside after work had wrapped up, but my activity level is still way below where I’d be under normal circumstances.

And, finally, I’ll need to queue up some Jesus Christ Superstar and Gene Autry, since I won’t be at my folks’ place to hear our traditional Easter tunes.