The most misunderstood phase of Hareniks’s day is the evening. In a culture that worships the “hustle until you bleed” ethos, the act of stopping is revolutionary.

Following the prayer, Hareniks returns home to a traditional Armenian breakfast, which includes freshly baked lavash bread, cheese, olives, and perhaps some honey harvested from the family apiary. The meal is simple yet nourishing, prepared with love by the family members. Conversation revolves around the day's plans, agricultural tasks, and the well-being of family and friends. This intimate morning ritual underscores the importance of family and community in Hareniks' life.

Afternoon is for errands, repairs, and the quieter crafts. The town’s clockmaker, an elderly woman with ink-stained fingers, takes apart a pocket watch with the reverence of a surgeon. Children return from school — lessons in reading, arithmetic, and the old stories of Harenik: how the town’s lanterns once guided refugees, how the river saved a crop in a drought year, and why, every spring, the townsfolk tie blue ribbons to the lampposts.

As the rain clears in the mid-afternoon, leaving the air smelling of ozone and wet slate, the work shifts from the fields to the homestead. This is the time for craft.