At home there is one day each year on which nothing happens. This is not a failure of the calendar. It is arranged.

You may not work on the Long Sitting, but neither may you rest in a way that accomplishes something. You may not repair. You may not plan. My grandmother set out the food the night before so that even the food would require no decision from anybody. Then the household sits, each in whichever room they are already in, and the day goes by, and that is the whole of it.

I have tried three times to explain the Long Sitting to people here, and every time they have asked me what you do on it. I keep saying: nothing. They keep asking what else.

Ommet never understood it either. Ommet moved through the entire day.

I have painted the room the way it was, which is the only way I have left to sit in it.