It has been an odd spring. Back in January and February, when it ought to have rained, it stubbornly refused to. And then, for the last month, as if making up for lost time, that’s almost all it did. But not in a flurry of spring showers, as if the world were waking up, taking its first tremulous spring breaths. It has been cold, or maybe my blood has just thinned. The Spanish (and I) have clung to their puffy coats; when they venture out, they dress their little dogs in their raincoats.
But today, sun. Also, today: I opened up El Pais to learn that those who develop mild COVID are no longer required to isolate. They won’t even know they have COVID, because home testing is no longer recommended if your symptoms are mild. What? How did I miss this development? A month ago, I sequestered myself in the bedroom for nine days because of a scratchy throat. I joked that I might be one of the last to officially have COVID, which turns out to be truer than I thought. After Easter, M will be back in the office, officially, masks only recommended, rather than required. Around the same time, Older Daughter will be able to stop wearing a mask whenever she leaves her dorm room at her U.S. college for the first time since she arrived there, almost two years ago.
I have no idea what to make of any of this, but after two years of documentation, I figure I’d better mark it. Although if El Pais were still a physical newspaper, with a fold, this particular COVID news would’ve been placed below it. More newsworthy — Ukraine, of course, but also the fact that Will Smith slapped Chris Rock at the Academy Awards. The Spanish papers didn’t even bother to censor his obscenity out of their headlines (Mantén el nombre de mi mujer fuera de tu puta boca.)
Weather report: Sun.