1. The soft pine needles underfoot; the vista ahead. We find the source of the smoke and wonder whether the difference in reflectivity in the reservoir is because it’s frozen. Next to us, a man waits for the low sun to light the hills in the most perfect way.

2. My pack of Percy Pig and Pals is delightfully cow heavy. I heart the cola cows. I savour each one.

3. My eyes and mind have just closed for the night but when John creeps up to bed, I wake up enough to tell him I’ve had a good day.

1. A minor grumpiness descends after I lose an eBay auction for a huge wildflower embroidery project kit then, a short time later, a flash of inspiration brings joy: I’ve got books of wildflower illustrations, I can just make my own.

2. Doing my special (long mocked) type of dancing in the office (think Liz Lemon channeling Carlton). My socks slide on the wooden floor and my moves get … even more special than usual, much to both my and John’s amusement. Lily though, is unimpressed as always (unless she’s dancing with me).

3. I finally crack open my hoarded pack of Nerds to commemorate the last episode of 30 Rock (it seems fitting). Bursts of super-saturated flavour on my tongue. They’re like nothing in nature – and I think that’s why I like them.

1. After the dog walk and his (and the dog’s) shower, John arrives in the office with a pot of Earl Grey and our lovely cups: a new afternoon ritual.

2. A surprisingly simple and delicious dinner. I had been considering a naughty take-out but thought I’d be good instead – and I think the result was nicer than any food I could have delivered.

2b. (Speaking of deliveries.) The instant switch in Lily from asking “who’s at the door?! who’s at the door?!” to “oooooh!” when I walk into the room with our monthly meat box. I’m always popular with the animals when I unpack it too.

3. I usually avoid watching films of my favourite books because they rarely match up, but the film version of I Capture The Castle has been on my mind since my last re-read a few weeks ago. The story is butchered and a lot of the charm inevitably lost (poor Hel is sidelined, poor Ab completely absent!) but what is left is special too: Cassandra seems older and it becomes less of capturing the castle and more of a study in longing.

1. Carla’s belly is as fluffy as her claws are long and sharp. I tickle the former and she grabs my hand with the latter. We play for a moment then she clasps my hand towards her.

2. I’ve been in my own head a lot recently – but in a good way: teasing out the motivations for characters. I imagine them like cartoon characters, inflating from 2D to 3D for a special episode.

3. To know the rest of the week is mine: no appointments, no rehearsals, no classes…

4. Every month we make the same “Who’s on first?” joke: “Which magazine is that [that you are reading/holding]?”, “Which”, “Yes, which?”, “Which”, “Which magazine?”, “Yes” etc.

1. The drizzle becomes a crackle, almost a hiss, as the thousands of droplets hit the duck pond.

2. Theatre is so grossly big compared to television, where a single longer-than-normal blink can say it all.

3. We’re working on a routine for the start of the play and their ideas – and natural clowning abilities – are hilarious. Someone comes in to tell us we’re laughing too loudly: we were having too much fun.