We kicked off the weekend with our first takeout in more than a month, with pizza from our favorite shop in D.C. I also did a little grocery shopping as I was waiting and drove for the first time in months.

I do not have six hours of recreational video conferencing planned this weekend, thank goodness, but I do hope to connect with a friend using the old fashioned, voice-only method.

I’ve placed some pre-orders for the farmers market, where I expect to be able to pick up my first asparagus and strawberries of the season.

I’m going to spend some time in my garden, where I expect to pick some greens, string up more runs for my peas, and put some sprouting potatoes in the ground, as well as do some general maintenance as part of my community garden work duties.

There is always laundry to be done. How???

With at least another month of working at home, I’m going to shift some things around and see how working at my desk feels. It predates computers and is higher and more slanted than ergonomics suggest ideal, but I’m also certain that working on my couch and in a rocking chair are not physiologically recommended. Plus, then I can see if I can make Rudi’s old monitor work as a second screen for my work laptop.

I need to do some baking, as we’re out of cookies and will soon use up the mid-week bread.

I should go for a bike ride. Sunday might be a nice day for that.

There will be some knitting and some reading, too.

What’s on your weekend agenda?

Three beautiful things from my past week:

1. My sixth and final video conference call of the day was an all-staff happy hour. I had all the necessary ingredients for strawberry daiquiris, except for ice and rum for Rudi’s glass. One trip to the liquor store (by Rudi, during call #5), and both needs were met. Five minutes into my call and I was sitting with a very pink drink and congratulating colleagues who’d gotten engaged (in person) and defended their dissertation (via Zoom) this week.

2. I finally got around to baking Mary Berry’s shortbread, which I think is now Rudi’s favorite of my homemade cookies. I had bought semolina flour specifically for this recipe, but the comments suggest that you can substitute rice flour or all-purpose, although the latter will certainly make it less sandy in texture. Also, I didn’t have demerara sugar, but I do have a variety of sparkly sugars for decorating and cocoa topping, so simply subbed that in. (Confession: I didn’t measure it; I just sprinkled it until it seemed like the appropriate density.)

3. My system of dry bags, rolled towels, and newspapers (and less rain than expected) kept the flooding in the Burrow to a minimum.

What beautiful things have been getting you through this last week?

Sometimes you just need Paddington to read to you, and he’ll do it as long as you bribe him with marmalade sandwiches. Honestly, I think he’d do it even without the treat.

Tonight’s book is A Velocity of Being: Letters to a Young Reader, edited by Maria Popova and Claudia Bedrick, and my Christmas present from Karen. It’s a series of letters from famous writers, artists, scientists, and leaders to children about a shared love of books. Each letter is accompanied by an illustration, and each pairing is thoughtful and thought-provoking. It’s not the sort of thing you can plow through if you expect to enjoy it, but is lovely to dip into for a few letters each night.

The sock is last year’s Smock Madness, which I discovered when I was moving bags around. Sock #1 is already done, which makes it a better project than this year’s Sock Madness socks, which are only up to the heel flap of the first sock. Wool socks are a part of my daily quarantine wardrobe for at least another month, so finishing a pair would be a nice gift to myself.

I thought I’d share a sense (or five) of what’s going on in the Burrow tonight:

Seeing: A mostly clear couch, thanks this to this weekend’s video chats. Little stretches of Christmas lights, still going strong at the edges of the room by the windows.

Smelling: A slight whiff of vinegar, from our belated dyeing of Easter eggs earlier.

Tasting: A slight hint of the cocoa I drank earlier.

Hearing: The whir of the bathroom fan, which is tied to the light, which I left on after I hung up the laundry to dry in the bathtub. Birds tweeting to each other outside now that it’s not raining. (They call out for much of the overnight.) Corey fidgeting in the box next to the couch.

Feeling: Corey’s soft fur. A chill — which came over the living room after the rain stopped and which is hitting my bare toes especially hard. The heaviness that comes with sleepiness.

What’s it like where you’re reading this from?

Fine. Let’s get my metaphorical house in order and get caught up on some book reviews. To start the year, I finished two books I really enjoyed:

The Art of Theft, by Sherry Thomas

In the fourth of the Lady Sherlock mysteries, Mrs. Watson comes to Charlotte with a Christmastime request — would she be willing to … retrieve … something on behalf of an old friend?

What can Charlotte say? She owes Mrs. Watson such a debt of gratitude. So despite her hesitations, she agrees. But this isn’t the sort of heist that can be accomplished with just the two of them. It’s going to require the assistance of Lord Ingram and Stephen Marbleton — and even her sister Livia — to pull this off. Acquaintances from earlier in the book series will cross their paths, as will at least one character from another Thomas series (which I’m now excited to read).

They will all journey across the Channel to France, where they must gain access to an exclusive Yuletide Ball. Charlotte, always one step ahead of murderers in her previous adventures, must now figure out not only how to successfully resolve Mrs. Watson’s friend’s request, but also how not to get caught in an international intrigue or in the crosshairs of a power play.

Charlotte’s adventures continue to be some of my favorites. I was lucky enough to get to attend an event at Loyalty Bookstore back in the fall with Sherry Thomas and to be in the room when she got to meet Kate Reading, a local voice actress who reads the Lady Sherlock audiobooks. The next book in the series is due out in the fall, so you still have plenty of time to get caught up with this great series — either in print or via audiobook.

Pages: 297. Personal copy.

Tuesday Mooney Talks to Ghosts, by Kate Racculia

The first thing you need to know is that there is an eccentric old billionaire, Vincent Pryce, beloved by many in Boston, who is about to drop dead at a hospital fundraiser. He has set up a Poe-inspired quest to celebrate that fact, and the prize may be some of his wealth. Everyone in Boston is very interested.

Second, you need to understand that Tuesday Mooney is very nearly always the smartest — and most reclusive — person in the room. As a development researcher for the fictional equivalent of Mass General, she likes to think of people as puzzles to be solved, which makes her both good at her job and off-putting to be around, except to a couple key people: her best friend, Dex, a drama queen stock broker, and Dorry, the motherless teen girl from the apartment next door who worships the ground she walks on. She also has just made a new friend, rich playboy Nathaniel, who refuses to fall neatly into any of the boxes she’d created for him when she researched his family. Oh, and there’s also Abby, who disappeared when they were teens, and who may or may not be haunting Tuesday.

People’s true identities must be sussed out. There are games within games within games going on here: peel off one layer of the onion only to reveal the next. Players will have to confront both inner and outer demons to solve Pryce’s puzzles, and Tuesday will not only have to learn to play well with others but also to trust them in order to move ahead and be considered for the final part of the game on Halloween night.

This is The Westing Game for adults and a well-crafted, multi-layered mystery of identity and reliability and, even, ghosts. Highly recommended.

Pages: 359. Library audiobook.

Total January reads: 2 books; 656 pages.

I have deleted, pre-publication, the post I just wrote about the rain. At the outset, I had acknowledged it could be worse, but then I devolved into a whiny, complaining post anyway.

And we all know how much the universe loves a whiner? “Oh, you think you’ve got it bad? Let’s show you that you had it pretty good five minutes ago.”

So I will not complain about the rain and the effects it will have later on. I will be glad that I have a roof over my head and a dry bed in which to sleep. I have shoes that are not holey. I have towels and newspaper that I can put down on the floor before I go to bed. I have cash that can be turned into quarters for the dryer. I can hear the thunder and take a deep breath to calm myself. I do not have children I have to entertain or comfort. I have paying, meaningful work to distract me from borrowing trouble. I will take stock and decide that in the grand scheme of things this is merely another inconvenience and one that we can get through. The sun will return and we will be okay.