Days like this reset my brain, get me back in touch with the smell of parsnips and the reassuring sight of clean clothes in stacks. There are plenty of tasks to do, plenty of writing that I will also fit in, but also the basic security items: food, order, cleanliness. Or, to paraphrase Paul in one or another letter, today I can make it my ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind my own business, and to work with my hands, which currently smell like chopped onions and lemon soap.