We can't quite recall back in March how affected we were by our first dose of the COVID vaccine we received. We do remember that our arms were sore afterward, but that cleared up in a few days' time. We assumed the second time around with the same vaccine would impact less on us than the original one did. It may have, but our feeble memories fail to collaborate that.

After having completed the two-dose regimen yesterday, we settled into the follow-up discomfort. Every time we raised the arm that received the vaccine it hurt like the devil. The injection is an intermuscular one, and that would guarantee there would be soreness afterward. And then there's also the effect of the virus itself, commanding our immune system to straighten up and fly right. This time upset stomachs accompanied the pulsating arm and we slept slightly fitfully during the night.

In the morning it was difficult to arise out of bed. For me, anyway. And I soon discovered that my left foot hurt when it bore my weight, and my right knee was sore when I was washing the floors on this house-cleaning day. For which execution there was no enthusiasm whatever. I felt lethargic, defused of my usual energy. Irving, it seems, has weathered the storm better than me. He did the vacuuming. We decided to do a little less this time, forget about the 'spare' bedrooms, the basement and the living room. They could wait until next week.

It turned out a rainy evening last night and  rain continued into the day, lots of it under dark skies and wind. It took longer for the floors to dry because of the high humidity. But eventually we freed ourselves up for a turn in the ravine with Jackie and Jillie. The rain stopped by midafternoon and we were hoping we could avoid a threatened thunderstorm.

The forest was completely soggy, the atmosphere oppressively hot and humid, with some relief from a constantly blowing wind, itself steeped in heat. We could hear it soughing through the forest canopy as we trudged along the trails. Twice we came across people who wanted to stand around and talk, one a young man we've got to know several years ago, and the conversation was all COVID and vaccines.

The second time it was a trio of people we'd never before seen who told us they live on one of the streets not far from our own. They were taken with Jackie and Jillie, fussing over the little ingrates who kept barking at them. They pumped us for information about the ravine and Irving obliged. Eventually we made our way out of the forest and onto the street, the street quiet and void of anyone's presence.