This week it’s the tang of tomato vines. It’s the phone ringing just when you need it to. It’s cherry jam spread thickly onto butter spread thickly onto toast, the jar a living memory of France in the summertime and laps of Carrefour with your auntie. It’s collecting books from the library with your name handwritten on scrap paper tucked into the lapel. It’s being brought a cup of tea in bed, and feeling loved. It’s knitting a pair of slippers for the winter ahead, the symphony of hands moving back and forth, to and fro. It’s planning who you’ll make the next pair for. It’s small kindnesses. It’s building a home.