1. Kaufman positions himself so that I can hug him and Lily at the same time. Lily doesn’t mind at all.

1b. Apparently dancing with me to Song 2 puts Lily is a state of blissed out suspended animation.

2. To return to a world I’ve not visited for a while and begin corrections.

3. I love how a familiar route can become new again simply by walking in the opposite direction: I logically know exactly where I am but for a moment it feels like an exciting adventure.

4. I would find its reputation and style intimidating if I hadn’t been introduced to it before I thought to have any fear. It’s always more relaxed and the staff more friendly than I think.

4b. Three little tastes of pastes: one made from spicy salami, another an Italian houmous and the third tantalizingly mixes liver pate and an orange chutney.

4c. It’s not what I thought it would be but it is delicious – and to find dauphinoise potatoes inside is a pleasant surprise.

4d. Chocolate ganache. Hello.

(I wrote a quicky update post over at The Really Good Life. I must get back into the habit of blogging regularly, I must.)

1. Singing along to songs until my throat is sore.

2. I break from tickling him and try to walk back upstairs (to the kitchen, to get him some milk to go with his dinner) but on each step, he stops me: he jumps in front of me, demanding more strokes and also, had I forgotten to feed him? (I had not.)

3. The cirles make up so quickly, so pleasantly, that I’m not even too annoyed when I realise I’ve done the border wrong on four of them.

1. By and large, I’m sticking to my “do it better” idea: every leftover scrap of my rolled out clay is dried to leather hard so that I can practise my carving. I try different techniques on inconsequential pieces – there is definitely signs of improvement in both precision and composition.

1b. I rush the glazing a little but my squat ziggurat looks like it’ll come out very nicely indeed. Fingers crossed.

2. John tells me the Kaufman is getting a bit big for cradling in his arms – Kaufman, my baby boy, is happy to be cradled but I know what John means. I pick up Lily, and half-cradle/half-sit her on my knee so that Kaufman will feel small again.

3. A mind-blowing shock – and being able to enjoy the pure emotion of other people’s reactions: horror sure, and tears from some people but also wide grins, pleasure derived from the fact that we knowledgeable, cynical people can still be surprised.

1. I forgot to put the wet washing on the bathroom airer yesterday – but it means I can hang it on the outside line instead today.

2. The small internal cheer each time I realise the pattern works out at the end of a round.

2b. My pile of finished squares grows surprisingly fast.

3. John describes the poached eggs as “ghosts dancing”.

4. The garden’s dramatic lighting – the trees all shine and shadow – when our next door neighbours are using their hot tub.

1. I finally crack a crochet motif that’s been bothering me for a few days. The colours are wonderful too.

2. The yolk oozes out of the chamber, coating the almost equally golden fish.

3. He hears me enter and he crosses to the bottom of the stairs, ready to dart. Then he sees me, blinks and meows hello.

1. Two record breaking scores in a row on my silly game.

2. I have a minor moment of enlightenment while re-reading the Hyperbole and a Half book. It’s not worth mentioning what it was, because as with all my little moments of enlightenment, it sounds really banal when expressed aloud – but for some reason the simple idea rang truer than it ever has before. I hope I remember it the feeling.

3. We watch the bat circling around over the gardens, zipping close to the houses then flipping away again. Eventually, another bat appears and they loop together for a few rotations then disappear. We wonder if the first one was a little lost or confused, and he needed his buddy to show him the way home.