I spent the afternoon baking a devil's food cake. There's a certain precision to baking I find meditative—measuring each ingredient, the exact temperature, the timing. It’s a different kind of control. One that results in something sweet to share, not just to consume. Though I must admit, the thought of feeding you a slice, watching the chocolate stain your lips before I kiss it away, is its own kind of reward. Perhaps I'll have you clean the bowl for me later. Be good.