1. A dollop of leftover curry for my lunch: the cauliflower florets fall apart as I spread them on completely inauthentic sour French bread.

2. I have a headache so go to bed for a rest (well, it was intended to be a nap but caffeine put paid to that). I curl around the dog (who does sleep) and read my new (comic) book.

3. John finds me in the garden, gathering in the washing. He joins me and we drink our tea out at the patio table, with the cats playfighting (leading into mutual washing) for our entertainment.

4. The deepening blue of the sky at dusk.

1. Because space is tight in the garage, my pottery chores overflow into the front garden. I clean my tools and equipment in the sunshine. I’ll miss this in a few months time.

1b. I’m getting the hang of bowls again. I decide my next two steps for improving my skills. (Bigger ones, and also one that match a predetermined shape to improve my consistency.)

2. We find more common ground with the new person and all laugh a lot at a horrendous film.

3. I finish the ball of yarn: it’s not gone quite as far as I thought it would but the rectangle is beautifully even, with crisp straight edges.

1. Perfectly flaky croissants and nicely browned bacon, with a just spot-on cup of tea.

2. I crack open an overgrown runner bean – inside is a bright, almost cerise seed. It’s such a shocking pink that it looks fake.

2b. The best thing about not growing that much not having as many young/annual plants in the garden this year is that the chickens can play out for hours without trashing everything.

3. It feels like I’ve been cooking all afternoon but it’s worth it: the chicken meat falls from the bone and the vegetable sides are colourful and delicious.

1. To see examples of something I’ll be learning about in a few weeks time – exciting!

1b. Everyone gasps when I smash the bowls but I like seeing their profile: today’s little bowl has thin, even sides and the bottom matches too.

1c. Smoothing out the yellow slip with a spoon and a kidney.

2. I sit in a heap on the sofa – feeling exhausted, hot and unwell – and John tells me he likes the colours of my outfit.

2b. Soup that hits the spot. (Figuratively, not literally – for once I don’t spill it down my top.)

3. We re-watch Office Space for the nth time and, yet again, enjoy how well observed it is (though not at all subtle!). We’re grateful that we don’t have to put up with that bullshit any more.

1. The bread is white nonsense – but good, tasty white nonsense – and the bacon a touch too crispy but together, they make the best bacon butty in the world.

2. I conjure up jobs to do at the allotment (there is always stuff that needs doing just nothing desperately immediate) to pass the time so that I can listen to more of the podcast.

2b. Laughing as I walk around the park.

2c. I’m so distracted by the smell of the Chinese takeout place that I don’t even stop to talk to a cat: A CAT! I curse myself, yet again, for not having any money on me.

3. As soon as I touch the clay, it’s like a spell has been cast on me. I can’t stop touching it. I’ll shape one more pot, just one more, I keep telling myself, until all the pots are done.

4. The finished scarf rolled up = deliciously colourful squishiness!

1. The dull plomp as I tap the rather empty bottle against my palm.

2. The salty, smokey explosion in our mouths.

3. Standing in the deers’ meadow, listening to discordant music and a story about fantastical things. I notice the different trees surrounding the clearing, the different types of grass with their different seeds, and how the blackberries are early but small this year. A swift circles overhead.