It's really spring...today I turned off the fan that blows air into the crawl space and keeps the water pipes from freezing. Even if still gets into the 20s at night, I'm no longer worrying about frozen pipes. Now I'm thinking about starting seeds and getting out in my gardens and yard. The pussy willow by the garage is all broken out in catkins, and the garlic I planted last fall is coming up. I'm waiting to see if the apple trees and lilac will blossom this year, and the hyacinth bulbs I put in.

We are now in the second year of COVID restrictions, with no definite end in sight. At this time last year, we were thinking we'd have to tough out the closed schools and businesses for a month or two, maybe as long as June. Our rosy optimism was soon doused with a bucket of reality. And some people did not take it well.

But I have to work to remember how surreal life became a year ago; the empty store shelves, the lines, hand-sewing masks from scrap fabric because no one could find PPE. I ordered flour and yeast directly from the manufacturer just before they ran out, too, for three or four months. Disinfecting wipes were out of stock everywhere--I used to use them for cleaning up the cats' accidents and had to go back to paper towels--not that they were easy to find, and as for toilet paper, that was literally being rationed. Everyone was baking sourdough bread and posting their cooking projects online.

But gradually, we all got tired of the novelty. Flour and cleaning supplies returned to stores, some businesses reopened, but the pandemic and its restrictions--wear masks, stay home, don't hug anyone, don't gather in groups, stay six feet apart, schools all on remote learning--those just went on and on and on. Now we're waiting for vaccinations and those, too, seem as though they will take forever. You still can't go inside the veterinarian's office with your pet, and going to a dentist is like a scene from the movie The Andromeda Strain.

Oh, and there was an election in there somewhere. A lot of people took that very badly, too. Indeed, it's hard to think of a time in American history when things were as just plain weird as they have been for the past 12 months.

It's not surprising that we've been seeing explosive events around the country; sudden, shocking violence, and "spring break" crowds going completely out of control. We all feel it--enough, already. We don't want to do this anymore. But it's not over yet by a long shot.

The schools here will be re-opening after Easter, but roughly a third of Winchendon students will be staying home on full remote learning. I'm noticing a lot of people in Winchendon abandoning their masks now, although I have no idea how many Toy Towners have gotten their vaccinations. We're still split between the people who are petrified of COVID and the people who think it's nothing to worry about. Meanwhile, more and more cases are being reported in younger people, and the state's downward trend in numbers is starting to rise.

Maybe it's for the best that we can't clearly remember what our daily lives used to be like, because nothing will ever be exactly as it was before. Some of the innovations we've made for COVID have proven to have collateral benefits--like virtual meetings and events which could be attended by far more people than could ever participate in person. All our social distancing, hand sanitizing and mask-wearing reduced this year's flu season to almost nothing.

The pandemic can't stop the cycles of the seasons, and working in our gardens and yards is one activity that we never had to restrict or cancel. At least we can get out of our houses now, and maybe we can let off some of our simmering frustration by digging, sawing and chopping. Whatever shape the post-pandemic world takes, we'll always need to eat. Summer will come, and one day we'll look around and realize that the day we're waiting for, the day when we can talk about the pandemic in the past tense, is finally here.

Inanna Arthen