1. I tidy the garden for winter (or rather, tidy a bit of it, what I can manage in my cold-hampered state). As I stack terracotta pots in the greenhouse, I find a hidden cucumber amongst the limp leaves. I split it open lengthwise, and with my fingers, scope out the core to check if there are any seeds worth saving inside. It smells fresh and bitter at the same time.
2. We’re all struggling thanks to lingering illness. When we reach the top of the climb, we have to stop to catch our breath then we walk on slowly, heads low. I say that we must look like a little bunch of zombies, staggering along without direction or chatter – but we’re all too tired to raise our arms for the joke.
3. We walk down the road for fish and chips. One of us could have gone alone but instead we go together. There is something about walking through the chilly night, getting cold cheeks and fingers, then warming up again as we open our steamy, vinegary parcels.