1. Our garden. Strawberry season is already over, and now we are getting more kale and lettuce than we can eat, and there are tiny green tomatoes and so many flowers blooming. We also got some new additions to our garden “decor” — the above sign and a new bird bath. There was a viral story about a trans teen who saw a rainbow flag in a neighbor’s yard, left a note asking if they could have a binder shipped to their address because their family wasn’t accepting. I’d been wanting a sign and that story made me realize the importance of making it clear what you value, where you live. You never know who needs to see it, who might need your support. When we went to the local garden center earlier this week, Eric saw the bird bath and really wanted it, but we were already on a mission and I had hit my limit of being out in the world so we didn’t get it. As an online educator tasked with helping his campus move classes online, he worked so hard the past few months, and we had to cancel our trip to the beach, so he deserved a present and I went back the next day and got it for him. It’s not a bad deal for me because I love it too, can’t wait to see some birds using it.

2. Morning walks. These hurt without Sam, and yet are still one of my favorite things. This week we were able to sneak one in by the river because the weather had been cooler for a few days, slowing down the mosquito population. I got bit a few times, but with COVID-19 I’m suddenly not so worried about West Nile Virus.

3. Swimming. This time, Eric went with me (which is how I got this picture), and for most of the time we had the whole pool to ourselves.

4. Sad anniversaries that are reminders of big love. Seven years ago today, we had to let Dexter go. Four weeks and one day ago, we did the same for Sam. I didn’t expect them to be back together so soon. I’ve lost three dogs in a row to incurable cancers, never had a truly old dog. It is so hard but I also wouldn’t trade what came before that for anything, even knowing how it ends. Still, I miss those three so much.

5. My tiny family. Ringo got a new toy this week and he’s in love.

HOW is this even comfortable?!

Bonus joy: having enough to share, strawberry rhubarb yogurt with granola and berries, yard time, texting with my mom and brother, hanging out with Mikalina and Chloe’, naps, remembering to shower and brush my teeth (y’all, there are some days…), practice, the light in our living room in the morning, that corner of the couch, Sam’s couch, thunderstorms (as long as there’s NO hail), compliments on our garden, laughing with Eric, pizza, cherries, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep, all the people working so hard and putting themselves at risk so that we can stay healthy and safe.

1. Peony season. All the blooms outside are done, and the ones I have inside, the last ones, the palest pink ones, only have a day or two left before they’ll be gone too. Each bush I planted is in honor of someone I lost, and the first bloom of this season opened the day that Sam died. Having them all around the house for these past few weeks without him helped to ease the grief, helped honor it.

2. Strawberry season. It comes early and is over in just a few weeks, but those weeks are delicious.

3. The back vegetable garden. We have more out front, another three beds and various other locations around the yard, but I’ve been especially loving the back, going out before lunch and picking kale and lettuce to add to my salad, how as soon as I pick some it starts to grow more.

4. Swimming. The few times I’ve gone, I’ve had the whole pool to myself — another thing to add to my list of “things I hope never return to ‘normal’.”

5. Our tiny house. When we were looking for a new house 18 years ago, our realtor didn’t really believe us that the yard was just as important or more so than the house. When we bought this one — older neighborhood, only 1080 square feet, giant tree out front, big back yard, larger lot, close to hiking and parks and trails, a solid house that needed work — she said, “I guess you weren’t kidding.” We wanted a good house, and that meant a place we could have a garden and the dogs we wanted could have a good place to play and take walks. What we really wanted was a home. All these years later — four dogs loved and three lost, replaced kitchen and bathroom and windows and furnace and water heater and roof (twice), me started and left a job at CSU, all the miles walked, weeds pulled, and hours spent playing and lounging in the yard, eating and sharing good food and flowers we grew ourselves — it continues to nourish and shelter us.

6. My tiny family. The Sam shaped hole is still there, so present. I hold space for him without even thinking about it, like when I go to bed at night, when it’s dark and Ringo and Eric are already there asleep, I expect Sam to be on his bed, wait for the shift, the sigh acknowledging me, and then, when it’s quiet instead, I remember. And this happens multiple times a day, all around the house and in the yard and on a walk and even in the car, me forgetting he’s gone, expecting him to be there and then the surprise, the remembering, the emptiness, the sadness. And yet, I wouldn’t trade this because this is what reminds me he was here, he was loved, and that I was too. It hurts, but with good reason.

The day we let Sam go, I gave him a frozen Kong stuffed with peanut butter and cookies. He fell asleep eating it, happy as could be. He hadn’t finished it and I didn’t realize Eric had put it back in the freezer. Every time I saw it in there, I thought, “now how am I ever going to be able to get rid of that?” The other day Ringo was really wanting to chew something, was wrecking one of his toys, so I got out the half eaten Kong and gave it to him. It made both of us happy. He got to have it and I got to let it go.

Bonus joy: clean sheets, a rainy day, that spot on the corner of our new couch that feels so tucked in but also so central, good books (I’m reading the The Broken Earth trilogy from N.K. Jemisin, and it’s so good), good TV (I’m watching the second season of of Homecoming with Janelle Monae and it’s so good, just finished Little Fires Everywhere which was so different than the book but also the same), good podcasts (DYANR still continues to be a favorite, and Mike Birbiglia just released a new one, Working It Out), good music (Rise up by Andra Day is on heavy rotation), yard time, monarch butterflies, new blooms in the garden as the season shifts, naps, writing with Laurie, hanging out with Mikalina, texting with Chloe’ and my mom and brother, practice, working on my book, a big glass of cold water, reading in bed at night while Ringo and Eric sleep, all the people working so hard and risking their own safety and health to care for others and hopefully make things better.