Carlo is doing well. He is back in New York, back to being a lawyer and last week moved into a place on the Lower East Side, lucky dog. His hands are repairing themselves under their various coverings and his eyes aren’t so far behind, although his right eye is lagging a bit. My understanding is that corneas take forever to heal, so even establishing a firm prognosis is difficult. The winter’s events still seem very recent, making his recovery seem all that much more miraculous. I’ll see him in person at the end of next week and will report in more detail after that.
To all intents and purposes R and I have resumed normal function out here on the west coast. I’ve been back at work since the beginning of March, which gives me something to do with my time besides re-ordering everything in the apartment and trying to process everything that’s happened. I am having difficulty returning to writing (see: last date posted to this blog), have trouble sleeping and find that even minor bumps in the road are disconcerting. This comes as a surprise to no one but myself and I’m trying to adjust my expectations accordingly. It’s been a very long winter.
In other news, I lost my Oscar pool again this year and we bought and then returned a house. I don’t think “return” is the right word, but effectively that’s what happened. It was a lovely house but far too big for us, much like those trousers I bought that one time and never wore.
Displaced 
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