Was this the best margarita ever?

I'm talking about the one I ordered Sunday afternoon. I enjoyed it along with a massive bowl of clam chowder, outdoors in the sunshine from the patio of my favorite local sports bar. 

Even better than the drink and the weather -- I was showing off my first pedi of the year! -- was the company. I was with Nancy and her husband Paul. New blood!

So much of my covid contact has been with the same people, over and over, and it's been tiresome. Tiring. For John, Kathy, Henry and my oldest friend are all very dear, but very damaged, people. With emotional and physical problems that are difficult for me to deal with.*

Nancy's and Paul's life isn't perfect. Nancy is still dealing with the loss of her son last summer. She is mourning her son while trying to mother/mentor her daughter, who just graduated from college. Paul is her second husband, and I know from days gone by that Nancy's children have resented his "intrusion" in their mother's life. And, of course, everyone has had quite a time this past year during the pandemic.

But Nancy and Paul aren't defined by their problems. Or hiding from them. Or exacerbating them. So spending time with Nancy and Paul was fun. Energizing, not depleting.

Last weekend I saw my nephew. This weekend I saw Nancy and Paul. Joanna and I are trying to carve out time to get together.

The pandemic is receding. I feel like I'm tentatively coming out of the shadows.

*And, obviously hard for them. I don't mean to be insensitive to their suffering. I love my friends.