1. A question leads to a satisfying chat.

2. Lily-dog is getting better. She jumps up at the sound of the doorbell, runs around excitedly when Strange brings in a live shrew and even manages a short walk – she wobbles and we stop at the bench for a break half way through but her tail wags the whole time.

2b. R-dog potters over to us, drops her stick then disappears into the undergrowth. Her well-trained human knows to throw the stick to her in the bushes.

2c. We anthropomorphise a gangly silver birch tree amongst the solid oaks.

3. The soil hisses as it absorbs the water.

3b. A phone call: would I like him to water the plants in the greenhouses at the allotment? Yes I would.

1. My new shorts are neither too long or too short and they’re pleasantly gaudy.

2. The honeysuckle smells great: a shame I have to prune it heavily.

3. Colourful blankets on the line. When they’re dry, I stack them in order of where in the house I’ll drop them off.

1. Kaufman demands cuddles from the both of us.

1b. Tilda keeps me company as I fold the laundry mountain. She likes it when I do chores in her favourite rooms.

2. The kitten runs at us as we walk by. It mews and rubs my legs with such confidence that I know it’ll be happy to have a pick up hug. For the second time in a week I find myself with a tiny kitty in my arms. #kittenbroody

3. Like yesterday, I enjoy the rain when it starts. I hold my head back and let it splash on my face before beating a retreat into the shed.

3b. The rain slows to a stop just as I’m getting bored (and uncomfortable).

3c. More tubs full of fruit. Today’s strawberries fill one of my big mixing bowls and I fill three freezer boxes with berries and currants – I’ll make jam and cordial when the weather properly breaks.

1. It’s disgustingly hot all day except for a thunder storm at lunchtime. I stand under the balcony and inhale the smell of the rain.

1b. The chickens stay out in the garden despite the rain but they look at me like the cats do, asking why I don’t make it stop. Later, when I go into the garden to put them away, two of the girls are near the greenhouse, pecking in my clutter and they look up with surprise.

1c. It’s too hot to catch things. Strange slacks off on the job: I find her lying on her side in the chicken’s run – maybe she goes things will run into her mouth.

2. We take Lily for a walk after dinner – once it’s a tiny bit cooler. The woods – which are usually humid – are surprisingly fresh. We walk down to the canal and watch the dancing bugs – hummingbird moths maybe – while Lily dunks in the water.

3. Another storm but this time electrical. Hardly any thunder but sheet flashes across the southern sky at regular, frequent intervals. It doesn’t look real.

1. I walk to the allotment in the midday sun then hang out done more washing on the baking patio. Afterwards I’m reminded once again how much I love our cool house.

2. I destroy our joint equal best score at our silly addiction.

3. I hear meowing while I’m on the phone to my mum in the garden and poke my head over the fence thinking I’ll see the new little kitten at the neighbour’s cat flap. Instead I see Strange, locked in their house. A text message later and she’s released: she dashes into the garden then back up to our office with a tale to tell.

4. With the heat finally on the wane, I go to the allotment again after dinner. I fill my tubs with berries and currants to turn into jams and jellies – if John doesn’t eat them all first.

1. The caraway seeds are a little overwhelming but if you let them be the star of the show,> the bread is quite delicious. I eat too much of it.

2. Our neighbour is in the garden when I go out to finish up. Had I heard they’ve got a new addition? He asks – yes, I’d literally heard – I’d been whimpering over pained meows through the wall before lunch. It’s much smaller than I’d thought – I’d been told to expect a young cat but he’s still a kitten. I cradle him in my arms and very much want to steal him.

2b. I show John the greenhouse now that everything is in final positions. I’m happy with how much I’ve squeezed in the small space.

3. The brush of Lily’s wagging tail against my bare leg.