We all hope to be admitted to the formal program of eye surgeries and getting groceries, returning from distances traveled where blessings flowed on Sundays and phone calls were made to remember truths inspired by change and disrupted before stable time and mask-wearing. Some transplants work better than others allowing a few to become busy once again making holes in roofs for friends to drop in unexpectedly, challenging the most difficult adage, Play can be work, and serving eggs and toast with strong coffee for breakfast. And still others grow tired of the noisy routine of taping window signs to glass demanding guests cohere to a set of guidelines created by those who talk a great game but fail to enjoy their favorite snack and continually wander around the block of anxiety in need of weeding.