My kids go back to school this week. Like the vast majority of their classmates, they were ready to be back in the classroom alongside their friends, so they will be in their school building for classes again for the first time in eighteen months (to the day, now that I think of it). In July, I felt pretty good about that decision. They’re old enough to be vaccinated (and have been), and although distance learning worked well for them, reconnecting with their friends over the summer reminded us all how very much they need those social interactions at this age, too.

Now, of course, with the more virulent delta variant raging across the country (with who knows what kind of new variant in its wake), our calculated risk to send our kids back into the school building seems like a greater risk (with fewer available calculations). I think that, with the exception of the students who are as yet too young to qualify for the vaccine, this particular school should have a fairly high vaccination rate. There is also a mask mandate in effect, but students still need to eat at some point, and if this pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that no precautions are perfect. (Which is not to say they should not be taken! I am extremely grateful for the thoughtful planning our school and the district as a whole have put into the new school year, and you can be sure if there were less stringent measures in place, we would not be sending our kids back.)

I am thus left in a kind of “cautiously optimistic” limbo regarding the safety of my children, their teachers and classmates, and the support staff in our school system. Is it worth the risk? I think so right now, but ask me again in a few months, and my answer could be very different.

Similarly, a couple of months ago, I was feeling pretty good about my chances of seeing my friends in person at Gallifrey One this coming February. If the previously announced, nebulous schedule from the BBC is to be believed, we’d even have a new series to talk about. But today? I’m not holding my breath.

In the era of COVID, five months is almost like a lifetime in terms of planning. How can we, here in early September 2021, possibly predict the state of public health by mid-February 2022? Honestly, we can’t. So we just have to think in terms of contingencies, and make our various tentative plans with our fingers crossed.

Frankly, I can’t even imagine how stressful this all must be for a concom. Gallifrey One already made the difficult (and absolutely correct!) decision to postpone their thirty-second convention from 2021 until 2022, but will they need to push it off again to 2023? And if that does become necessary, what happens to the con? Will that caution reflect on them favorably or unfavorably among their potential guests (I hope I know the answer)? How will such a long gap between conventions affect the enthusiasm of both staff and attendees?

I suspect—I really hope—that attendees like me will be as ready as ever to return with the same love and enthusiasm as ever, whether it’s 2022, 2023, or beyond. Similarly, I hope that Gally will continue to be a labor of love for its Board of Directors, and they won’t abandon it to an ignominious end as another casualty of the pandemic.

As for when that thirty-second meeting will happen, I can’t really predict. I really hope to be there—I plan to be there!—when it does, though I’m dubious about whether or not it will be this upcoming February. Until we know for sure, I’ll keep my fingers crossed, my heart hopeful, and my mask on in public.