1. I go to the allotment, not particularly because anything needs doing or because I want to do anything there but just because I feel like I need to spend some time in daylight. I put on a discussion about the origin (and development) of cities, and dig over some fallow beds and carve out a brand new growing space: a trapezoid that will be perfect for growing squash or a tall wigwam of beans.

2. I’d taken the spade on a whim but I’m glad I did: it’s the perfect tool for cutting out the edges of the new bed. A few weeks ago, the sides would have crumbled under the blade but after weeks of rain, the heavy clay walls cut cleanly.

3. The cat frowns at me from the window sill – I blink at him but he continues to frown. “Ok, bbye then,” I say but as soon as I turn to walk on, he jumps down and attaches himself to my leg. I stroke him for a little while then say goodbye a second time but he won’t let me go. I try to shake him off gently, then a little more persistently but he follows me across the (traffic-free) road and to the end of the street. Eventually I have to enlist the postman to help: he distracts the cat while I make a run for it.