A cheese for leisurely lunches, how to not lose the TV remote, and a butter knife from Prada

Plus, tenderness from strangers on the train

I’m writing to you from the train. A friend texted yesterday that she was wonderfully (miraculously) free tonight and would I want to come to Brooklyn for dinner and a sleepover? As I’ve mellowed into my 40s, I’ve largely made peace with the fact that I’m not really a spontaneous person. I know myself; I thrive with routines and having a plan. But structure can calcify into rigidity, of course, and this past year I’ve caught myself on that far shore more often than I’d like. Nevertheless, here I am. I’ve got my snow boots off, my cozy slippers on, the train heater is blasting - I’m warm for the first time in forever.