1. The beach feels completely different today. The waves are fiercer (almost like the sea on a proper beach) and, aside from the dunes which are as powdery as always, the sand is heavier, not as pretty as yesterday. Kite surfers and land surfers zip to and fro, their journeys occasionally interrupted by slow twisting leaps, and the whole place feels like its bristling with energy, not the peaceful calm we usually feel.

1b. The world doesn’t disappear at Formby Point today. We can see the wind turbines, distant hills and a fuzzy shape on the horizon which is probably a boat or a rig but which looks like some sort of magical castle floating on the water.

2. John ducks down on the field and, suspicious, the people in the conservatory a few houses down stand up to watch him. Lily finally responds to John’s calls and the two take advantage of the flat green and gambol around in a wide circle. When we turn back to the makeshift bridge, the people have sat down again, satisfied that John is silly rather than a threat.

3. While John has his coffee, my mum and I stroll along Lord Street. I suggest we duck into an old arcade, one that I have barely been in because it holds little more than an antique shop (and that wasn’t exactly a main port of call for my teenage self). I later tell Mum my reason for exploring it: it’s never been a particularly conscious concern but not knowing what was inside there has haunted my dreams for years.

4. The novelty of daylight on our journey home: we can see the giant head, falling down buildings and the rolling moorland all around us.

5. The cats stay close all evening. At one point Strange leans her sleepy head on John’s leg and Kaufman, curled up in Lily’s belly, does the same to the dog.

1. A lamb testing its boundaries then sheep, lambs and chickens milling around a field.

1b. The boy falls off his bike so slowly onto the soft grass that we, him and his friend all immediately laugh.

1c. The bumps are smooth rather than jolting. The lake though is noticeably choppy.

2. Free books! We’ve saved enough stamps at the fabulous Broadhursts bookshop to get £10 off – I get two books on prehistoric Britain for nothing at all.

3. The sun is low but bright, sending shadows along the sand. The extra contrast highlights all the different textures.

3b. Lily scampers away towards the sea and sits in a pool. She sulks in the car on the way but she does like the beach.

3c. Little crabs which are almost see-through.

3d. The dunes – in fact everything – fades into nothing around Formby Point.

4. We’ve finished the meal but as we’re clearing away the dishes, I sneak a scoop of the leftover dauphinoise potatoes – a bit from the top, that’s deliciously browned.

1. Up and about a bit earlier than normal, I see sun in unusual places – Strange enjoys the sun on the sofa, through the east facing door; Tilda also sunbathes, but in the washing basket in the bedroom; the perpetually dark corridor not perpetually dark after all; and when I return from missing my bus, I see the soft dappled light along the north facing path down the side of the house.

2. There isn’t room for me in the main classroom: while I miss out on some of the teaching, I enjoy the freedom to work on my figures without concern for observing eyes.

2b. The work still warm from firing. Nearly every piece has come out brilliantly.

2c. I work on all my (six) pieces-in-progress – taking them as far as I can for now – and still have an hour left. Why, I can start two new pieces in that time!

3. A strangely sociable dog walk – first we met someone from my old drama group then we chat to the man with the boxers. The dogs are old and not in the best of health but it doesn’t stop them grinning and wanting to lick my face. I wipe sober off my cheeks for the rest of the walk.

4. The flow from the tap forces the bubbles against the edge in pleasing linear sweeps.

1. A tidied desk, a swept floor and spider plants relieved of their brown leaves: the office looks so much better.

2. Feeding the cat treats through the cat flap.

2b. Lily and Strange stretch out together on the patio in the sun.

3. Some colours:

i) A touch of green eyeliner: it makes my eyes look bluer.
ii) The sweet-spicy sauce is a rich vermilion.
iii) Blood red embossed … wallpaper? I don’t know what it is but it makes me want to touch it. (So I do.)
iv) An indigo stripe on a repurposed Japanese tea cup.

4. We finish our dinner a little early so stroll around the city – it’s after 7 but the shops are still open and everyone is in good cheer, enjoying the light evening.

4b. We’re so close to the front and the lectern is so big that it almost swallows David Sedaris. At times, much of the time actually, I can only see his head. He looks like a wooden barrel-chested robot.

1. I become a dahlia planting production line – within no time at all, all the pots are filled with soil and potential.

1b. Strange walks along the wall – not along the top but about halfway up where the stones jut out a little. Living up to her name once again.

1c. The cats explore the greenhouse for the first time and take turns to … fertilise my raised bed with little splashes of nitrogen-rich liquid.

1d. Later, I look up from a cuddle with Tilda to see we’re being watched: the ginger cat sits on the wall and blinks at me.

2. The sweet dog sleeps.

3. “Watch where you’re going,” the dad tells his son. The boy, perhaps three, is distracted by Lily and not paying attention to his cycling, which seems to be a very new skill. His feet fall from the pedals and he wobbles dangerously. He needs a supporting hand and a bit of a push to get going again.

Ten minutes or so later, as they make the return journey from the fish’n’chip shop, the dad’s warning has changed: “don’t go too far, don’t go too fast, remember you have brakes.” He doesn’t need any help any more.

1. Tilda watches “Cat TV” (the view through the cat flap) and when Strange enters the frame, climbing the steps to the kitchen, Tilda ducks to the side. A head pushes through the flap and get swiped with a playful paw.

2. After some faffing when I first arrive at pottery, I finally settle and do good work. It isn’t at all as I’d planned but it is nice to be building fun things again – and my carving goes surprisingly well.

2b. G liberates some little cakes from the kitchen and brings them in for us. We have dirty, clay-coated hands so she feeds them to us. We’re giggling so much we can hardly chew.

3. Three nice – good quality – tops from a charity shop. And my eBay jeans fit perfectly too.

4. To not know what will happen – and to be amused by hand gestures, barbs and all sorts of contrasts along the way.