We’ve come around the lockdown calendar the full year at this point:  last year at this time we were just starting into the crazy COVID year. 

My husband’s birthday is today.  I remember last year’s craziness.  His special day came as we celebrated the arrival of Son #1 and his girlfriend, although we didn’t see them for two weeks because we sent them into quarantine. School had just shut down for the high schoolers.  We were waiting to hear about which jobs the state would deem “essential.”

It was rather a chaotic birthday.  Most years, I do arrange for a potluck meal with some close friends.  We are usually just coming out of our normal “Vermont hibernation,” the season where most of us don’t come out as often anyway.  It’s typically a time that we like to get together, just because we haven’t seen each other for a month or two. 

I felt that same familiar urge this year.  Two days of spring-like weather had me even dreaming that perhaps we could be outside. 

But in the end, we all agreed that it was not prudent to try for anything like that—and the weather turned cold, with snow flurries in the air anyway. 

Instead, we celebrated with a special birthday breakfast.  The silver lining?  It was a calm family day (with less time in the kitchen)—and still a great memory to look back on.