It is Sunday, the first day out. Every surface is screaming. I am patient. I wait. I make small moves. I explore all the rooms and their cupboards and drawers. I find what I lack and discover what is missing. I do not hide from visitors. I accept invitations. I smile and tell the truth, both. I move forward anything that presents itself. Baby steps. I cook slow in the slow cooker. Say yes to whipped cream from a can.