The clove-scent of a bunch of stocks is filling the room.

A fresh breeze is blowing outside, such a relief.

I walked across the park for a crusty loaf from an old-fashioned baker.

I am going to toss a salad of spinach, chicken and chorizo and eat it off my lap, reading Olive Kitteridge.

So not a bad day, even if it hasn't been very exciting.