1. Perfectly timed buses – the longest wait I have all day is just one minute.

2. Walking up a street I usually walk down: on the one hand, ugh a steep hill but on the other, seeing buildings from the opposite direct and getting a proper idea of shape of them and the landscape for the first time.

3. Inspiring small pieces of artwork everywhere I look around the vast shop.

3b. The undyed aisle provides relief from the unrelenting colour assault – muted ones, bright ones, blends… But even there, there is such variety in texture and display that it’s almost overwhelming.

4. An evening in Alterac Valley (a World of Warcraft PvP zone). AV is my favourite battleground and it used to be the bg place to be, but more exciting additions have robbed it of its former glory. This weekend though everyone is playing it again, just like back in the day. I play countless matches and unusually for our side, we win most of them. Some of them we blitz (finish in less than 6minutes), some are drawn out affairs (the longest lasted about an hour) but all are fun.

1. A fluke chance of timing means I can avoid a potential awkward social situation – but in a good way for once.

2. The pylon reflected on the grey water of the canal.

2a. A man is sunbathing mid-walk on the bench on the other bank. Two boys are fishing away from the electric wires. A couple in shorts are walking hand in hand. A woman is sat on the green bank, laughing as a fat springer spaniel runs in and out of the water.

3. Inspired by Marmalade Rose and a random sketch, I decide to try my hand at felt art. I have a bag of moorland-inspired dyed wool tops and some natural grey leftover from last time I spun: the perfect shades for my woodland design. I’ll have to wait until it is dry to see how it ends up but so far, I’m happy with it and either way, it was good fun.

1. I wombled the little table in 1998 and it was very useful back then, but John’s been wanting to get rid of it for a decade. We’d had a conversation about it only the day before and it had been agreed that it could stay “for now”. I didn’t realise though that a couple of years of living in the garden had reduced its sturdiness until I stand on it to reach the washing line: it slowly deflates under me with a clatter. John’s head pops up in the office window like a meerkat and he lets out the loudest belly laugh. I’m laughing too.

2. Folding the freshly-washed bedding together in the warm evening air.

3. The stretch on the skin as I manipulate my stiff toes.

1. R & M
1a. R brings us a cauliflower – after bug problems earlier in the season, his garden is now full of them. Lily is whinely desperate to see R’s dog Malcolm but as soon as she reaches him, they ignore each other as usual. They have a strange, but sweet, friendship.

1b. We get home just as R and Malcolm are returning from their evening stroll. I bend down to stroke Malcolm and get a surprise little lick on the nose by way of a hello.

2. Garden
2a. I find a redcurrant bush hidden amongst the sycamore regrowth: the fruit looks like shiny jewels in the greenery.

2b. The repotted plants sit higher in their planters and instantly look healthier and stronger.

3. Banter over a good curry. More banter over a good film.

4. My hair had been still slightly damp when I’d pinned it up and when I let it down at bedtime, there is a fresh shampoo smell whenever I move. I twist my head from side to side.

1. The swirls of suds look designed: the outer swirl is solid but as the curve gets tighter, the line breaks up into dashes, then dots then the tiniest hint of dots. Then another set of swirls cuts into it – solid, dashes, dots and tiny dots. A fine combination of organic and repetition.

2. I do something a bit silly in the game and even though it wasn’t anything major – and it worked out ok in the end – I feel ridiculously embarrassed and quit out of it with a giggle. John laughs, telling me he’s heard of people “rage-quitting” games but not “embarrassment-quitting”. With another giggle, I declare I’m going on the dog walk with him instead so I don’t have to show my face around those virtual parts for a while. This makes John laugh even harder.

2b. We walk further than we’d thought and end up by the canal, at the good Lily swimming spot. After a session chasing imaginary ducks in the pond last week*, she’s getting more confident in the water and she swims out further than ever. It’s lovely to see her getting braver.

3. Past John and Past Louisa contribute to dinner so we get a lovely meal and pudding with minimal effort.

* There were no ducks around – she just had a little piece of duck down stuck on her nose so thought that there were ducks EVERYWHERE. John later described this as “smelling as stronger for her as if we’d been shot in the face with a duck cannon.”

1. The tradition is breakfast curry but as it will possibly be the first day of Ramadan, we make alternate plans instead: a giant stack of pancakes. I always thought lemon and sugar was the boring option, an appetizer before getting onto the good stuff or a palate cleanser, but today they’re unusually delicious.

2. I find it strangely difficult to write the date with the correct year, rather than my year of birth.

3. Exactly what I’ve been looking for, a perfect fit, a good brand too, and only £3.50? Yes please.

4. The “All” channel might be filled with people throwing around the usual insults but locally, we’re praising each other on a job well done. We might have lost in the end but we fought the good fight, protecting our home base so they couldn’t take us down that easily.