The dead are bushed an' stoned to keep 'em safe below

Rabbit, rabbit! I am having a great deal of difficulty with my state continuing to reopen as our delta cases spike. I was obliged to be inside two buildings for purposes of errands this afternoon and while I appreciated that more masks were in evidence than not, it did not make me feel as safe(r; safe as an absolute has been out of the question for some time now) as it might have even a month ago. I was just about the only person wearing a mask on the street. Somerville is recommending indoor masking, but not requiring it; Massachusetts as a whole has not reinstated the mask order it rescinded in May. We are officially no longer in a state of emergency. Please ignore the rates of community transmission blooming red across the map. It feels a bit like living in that blown-off splinter of reality in Diana Wynne Jones' Witch Week (1982), except I don't think there's much chance of merging into a healthier worldline. As of this week, spatch has returned to work in person. At least he is mostly interacting with dust.