I’m confused whether we are still in the midst of springtime or if we’ve jumped right into summer. The burst of color says spring, but the thermometer says something else. Approaching 100 degrees in early April and requiring us to turn on the air-conditioning is disheartening and portends a potentially super hot season on our horizon. Then again, I’m renowned for being incredibly wrong with my predictions of what the future holds.

This splash of vibrancy wasn’t meant to provide a place to vent about some minor atmospheric discomforts though. It is here to celebrate a side of life moving back to ecstasy. The birds are singing wildly, darting about looking to attract mates, while the mockingbirds return to leaping off their perches before fluttering back into place. Lizards are scurrying between shaded spots, bunnies dart across open spaces, and pollinating insects are checking in with the first saguaro blooms. Our skies are still a vibrant blue awaiting summer to officially arrive and wash them into faded shades of their former selves.

Then, just when you think the heat is here to stay, a break in the weather lets the midday temps drop back into the upper 70s. Mornings feel chilly at 60 degrees. With this potential last opportunity to feel the brisk fresh air, Caroline and I headed to a nearby frog pond for our morning walk. While there wasn’t any croaking going on out there, we did see a turtle and plenty of tadpoles plucking insects from the surface of the murky waters. It’s beautiful on this trail and surprisingly quiet. Maybe there could be a few more of these precious days before Phoenix turns into a blast furnace.

Wow, just a little more than a year later and Caroline and I are fully vaccinated against COVID-19. While masks around us are quickly disappearing due to an idiot governor more interested in political expediency than science and public health, we are willing to continue masking up until herd immunity is reached or the CDC signals that things are safe enough to do so. Now we need to hope that Europe hits the accelerator on getting its citizens vaccinated so the international travel market can reopen. Even if it does open this year and we’re cleared to not use masks, I’d venture that we’ll do that 11-hour haul across the United States and the Atlantic while covered up. I’ve already looked for an app where I could store copies of our vaccination records that might transition to an official vaccine passport but those are not easy to find, yet.

So how does life change? I’m not as worried about contracting a death sentence. Yes, it is my fault that I am obese which helped cause my diabetes and high blood pressure, but that still doesn’t mean that I should want to give up and sacrifice my life due to prior poor decision making. If that was a thing, many of us should have been thrown to the Soylent Green machine when we were teenagers or young adults. If we are lucky and enough fellow citizens follow suit or we get to vaccine passports quick enough, I’d like to get back to museums and concerts without worrying about the people around me. Hopefully, we’ll continue seeing millions of people vaccinated every day and can start to emerge safely from this ugly virus.

Starting March 13th, Caroline joined an online 3D Weaving Workshop. That morning she joined a Zoom meeting hosted by Sally Eyring from Boston, Massachusetts, and for 3 weeks on Saturdays, she was busy for a full 7 hours. Now, I wasn’t around for these “pandemic-safe” workshop days as I headed over to my favorite coffee shop for my very own writing sessions (often gab-fests, to be honest) allowing Caroline to participate uninterrupted by a looming husband (hope you enjoyed the dad-humor pun).

This particular process of 3D weaving is a technique developed by Sally Eyring, the instructor, and required some very special tools to make this happen. Some were supplied, such as bungee cords and mitten clips, others Caroline had to find, such as empty gallon water bottles and thread weights. It turns out that having a week between classes was ideal because it allowed Caroline to become much more familiar with the processes instead of the more typical 2.5-day workshop where participants cram everything in between Friday and Sunday afternoon.

The workshop attendees got to choose their own projects. Caroline picked the “bolster pillow.” She wove a sample, trying out different things, then cut it off the loom to see how it was working and to decide on which particular patterns were her favorites. Once that’s done she’ll continue by weaving the actual bolster pillow cover. By the way, weaving samples is typical as it allows the weaver to experiment with different parameters before proceeding with “the real thing.” After the final product has been made it seems likely that Caroline won’t be returning to this technique, but she enjoyed the opportunity to learn something new while discovering that online weaving workshops are viable alternatives to meeting in person.