To sleep longer than usual, or sleep late, though it is probably not late enough to count, to have a mug of tea, to read a great new book done well, full of life, full of a different place and characters that make you ask where he gets them (V.S. Naipaul: A House for Mr Biswas, currently one of my favorite books in all the world), to eat a hearty breakfast with a pot of coffee, to work on poetry and have grapefruit juice, to wander forth but not for long, to work on poetry again, to go for a long walk with a difficult and stimulating book (Barfield: What Coleridge Thought), to return to a good meal and some stimulating coffee, to read more in the stimulating book and more in the book from early that has been tugging at you all the day, to have another collection of poetry from somebody it turns out you really relish (Derek Walcott, this is Trinidad & Tobago week for me), to further work on poetry until it is apparent that one has done all one can for one day: that is the life.

I got the whole week too: there’s glory for you.