1. I find a polka dotted feather on the ground in the woods – black with white spots. I show the boys then keep it tucked in my hand, to take it home and add it to my collection.
2. “Well, that was nearly embarrassing,” I tell one of my colleagues over IM, “the cat just stood on the “x” key and nearly sent you a row of kisses.” He laughs.
3. The chicken, the one with the black flecked neck, eats the corn from my hand – a first for Team Peach. Later, they all eat from John’s hand and the black flecked one jumps then flies up to sit on my head. I think they’re starting to like us.
4. She’s on me now, rubbing and writhing around on my wrists as I’m trying to type. Now she’s sat on the arm of the chair, looking at me, purring with her paws tucked under at the front. I reach over to tickle her head but she pushes her chin forward instead, telling me to stroke under there instead. My hands are dry & tender – swollen joint hangover from the work I did yesterday & from an assortment of nettle strings today – but the pain is temporarily relieved when I touch her smooth and refreshingly cool fur.