Saturday started with the kettle and a loose chair. The front leg had been rocking for a month. Today I wedged a folded matchbook under it and called that a repair. It holds if you sit still.
Later I opened the window. The street was all errands: a dog, a delivery van, someone laughing into a phone. I copied one paragraph from a book I already own into the back of a notebook, then crossed it out. The afternoon was wide and I left it that way.