I ordered a cartload of plants and flowers to put along the staircase
and in the rooms. Aniela's room remains exactly as it was when she
occupied it. I suppose the ladies will arrive in the morning and
Aniela will want to change her dress. I had a large mirror put there,
and every requisite for a lady's toilet. Aniela will meet everywhere
proofs of thoughtfulness, memory, and faithful love. Only now, while
writing, it strikes me how much easier I feel when occupied with
something, when outward activity takes me out of the enchanted circle
of reflection and pondering over myself. Even driving nails into
the wall for the pictures of the future museum would be better than
twisting one idea around another. Why cannot I be a simple-minded man?
If I had been that in times gone by I should be now the happiest man
in the world.