(And another: happy birthday D & J)

1. John tells me it’s raining heavily but I disagree: there are a lot of raindrops falling in quick succession but each of them, individually, is light. John considers it for a moment then agrees.

2. He picks the dish from the special board, the one with mango and a “large pinch of saffron”. It is rich, sweet and delicious.

2b. We dab at each others’ dishes with torn chunks of naan bread, each sauce different from the last.

3. We watch “The Master“. The colours and the lighting are beautiful; the music, both in itself and in comparison, is discordant. While I have some issues with his performance, Joaquin Phoenix looks like he is not of this era: I am mesmerized by the texture of his (and to a lesser extent, Amy Adams’) skin.

1. The snow falls steadily but fails to settle.

2. “One day, I’m going to walk that way,” John says, pointing to the opposite side of a hillock. I lead the charge. The track winds, taking us first to a field I last visited three years ago (I point at a gate post pushed over to make a stile and recall sitting there to have a drink), then loops back to join the main path further on. We continue outward to the village then head back into the woods for the return journey. By the time we finally reach home, our cheeks are pink with cold and exertion.

3. A conversation grows as it snares passing people. Lily and Malcolm mingle for tickles, treats and attention but the large white dog stands still and impassive.

1. The stack of paper holds the heat from the printer. The cat and I enjoy the warmth.

1b. He is in a cuddly mood today. Later, he sits on my boobs and nestles into my neck. Later still, he leans against me, at close to 45 degrees, and roars with purrs.

2. The four dogs run around together, a happy pack.

2b. Lily and the puppy next door run back and forth trying to see each other around the fence. They can’t wait to meet properly.

3. The salty ham, the creamy cheese.

1. The first wild garlic leaves of the year are starting to uncurl.

2. In John’s absence, I finish my big project a day ahead of schedule. I’m glad to have finished it (for now) but at the same time, sad because I haven’t been as energised or fulfilled by something for a long, long time. Thankfully though, my “what’s next?” list is epic.

3. I don’t notice that I’ve gone to sleep; all I know is that an hour has gone by, someone is walking up the stairs and someone else, a canine someone, is banging her tail in delight against the duvet.

1. The fluffy doxie pulls at the slim red lead; the stocky boxer dangles from the swinging blue rope.

2. A slim packet of thread arrives in the post. I turn it over and over again enjoying the colours. Considering they were a random assortment, selected quickly via an imperfect screen, they are absolutely perfect.

3. We enjoy the word “blurt”.

1. Watching old cats – Carla first, then later Feb from next door – enjoying the new sun. Carla rolls on her back and has a wash, while watchful, wary Feb blinks in the light.

2. I trim out the excess, creating space for a new scene. I’m proud of the neatness – and poetry – of the result.

3. Filling in the background texture for my embroidery was tedious last week but this week, I actively choose to do it, enjoying the simple repetition. My hands effortlessly move back and forth while Bill Bryson tells us about tea, the brick tax and the viral element of the Columbian Exchange.