1. The fat green leaves of the courgette and summer squash plants form a backdrop for yellow flowers and fruit, and the strong purple of the lavender’s new flower heads.

2. To see Boron’s tail disappearing through the cat flap then later, the whole of him appearing on my desk to demand cuddles. We start to think he was faking his near-death behaviour the day before to get extra treats and attention. We don’t mind one bit.

3. The drop of the cheese sauce that had slithered away from the rest of the leftovers and had been caramelized to perfection in reheating.

1. The greasy bubbles on the surface in the shape of the spatula that made them.

2. The crunch as the knife passes through the carrots. The clack as it hits the board underneath.

3. Boron has not been himself all day – the first time he’s not been his bright and cheerful self. He wants to be alone but we all – Carla and Lily included – keep checking on him. Then suddenly he appears by my side and takes up his usual evening position, in my laptop’s slipstream. He hugs my hand to his chest and purrs and purrs. His end might still be nigh but it’s lovely to have him back for a little while.

3b. His upper lip still carries two little scars from when he only had lower fangs, from his gurning days.

1. The litter-pick grabbers are surprisingly fun. I think we play with them more than the children.

2. Stupid jokes.

3. Standing barefoot in the damp, cold grass, looking at the sky. The clouds are flatly grey against the deep blue gradient.

1. To close the chapter on that whole episode. Literally.

2. The inclusion of gherkin makes it perfect.

3. There is a Tenacious D lyric that we sing perhaps a dozen times a day (“that’s fucking teamwork”) but when John returns from making the teas he made by himself, he decides that it should be “that’s fucking me-work”. I point out that if he’d caused other people to make tea too, it would be “memework”. Or, reading the overly precise location details from Wikipedia, I explain if he’d done it in a certain suburb of London, it would be “Cheamwork”. Or with a fish, “breamwork”. I could go all night but we, rightly, leave it there.

1. The sunlight is clean and fresh, more autumnal than height of summer. It erases colour from the floor of the woods and casts my shadow before me as I walk.

2. A cat that from the side looks alarmingly like our old beloved cat, Sili before she got cancer and wasted away. I apologise for breaking out of the conversation but I have to take a picture of her to show John. It tugs our heartstrings when we look at the images later. (By coincidence, it’s three years today – 31st – that she died. I miss that little crazy sack of fluff. She would have loved it here and I think she would have enjoyed Lily a lot too.)

3. I am reminded of this SMBC cartoon.

1. The cats take it in turns sitting on me for strokes. Carla sits up tall on my knee while Boron curls up in a silky ball in the space between my knee and the cushion. Carla’s purr is loud and projected, Boron’s is a rumble.

2. The parallel vertical lines of the door frame, chimney breast, wall around the bay window and the narrow windows themselves.

3. Unexpectedly light music, all breathy voices, echoes and long held notes.