I learned to find equal meaning in the repeated rituals of domestic life. Settning the table. Lighting the candles. Building the fire. Cooking. All those soufflés, all that crème caramel, all those daubes and albodigas and gumbos. Clean sheets, stacks of clean towels, hurricane lamps for storms, enough water and food to see us through whatever geological events came our way. These fragments I have shored against my ruins.
(Joan Didion ur the Year of Magical Thinking)
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