For the last few years, Grace and I had a regular soak in the hot tub every Saturday afternoon. I started the tradition because a hot soak helped her arthritis, and making it one of our activities was the only way I could get her to do it regularly. Grace actually did much better on a schedule; left to her own devices she would eat, sleep, and everything else whenever she felt like it, which tended to aggravate her health problems. But if I woke her, served dinner, etc at regular times it was much easier to keep her various issues under control. Keeping up our schedule after she died has helped me not to sink into depression, but there are a few things, our weekly soak among them, which were just so closely associated with her that I haven’t been able to do them without crying. Well, a few weeks ago I started the weekly soak again; I’m finding it relaxing as long as I have an edible before going in. And as long as I stay stoned from then until bedtime, I don’t cry as much after I get out, either.