Friday night dinner is something of a ritual in this country.  My unconnected friends are often at a loss, because there is nothing much else to do.   We hear shouts from the university soccer field, and late in the evening groups of young people still meet in street corners, but in general people stay home or with families on Friday.  Until Corona we tried to herd our family and maybe a guest or two into our apartment, or visit with friends, but the tradition is somewhat broken now.  

lest night we went to Dalias, and part of our family celebrated.  We brought the soup and main course, and sat on their balcony to be served.  today we’ve got the other part of the family for lunch, and we’ll sit with windows open and heaters and try to feel festive.  it is a strange way of keeping up necessary traditions.