1. In contrast to last week’s frustrating session at pottery, I have lots of fun – we laugh heartily during class and beyond; I start some new items and I refine some existing ones. My work that has come out of the kiln is good too: some of it isn’t at all as I’d imagined it (eg, the blue pyramid above should be brown/blue mottled) but I still like it. I feel like I’m making progress again.

2. Singalong Friday afternoon.

2b. The jet trails converge from four to two, then one as the plane passes across the sky.

2c. The caterpillar on John’s shoulder moves like it’s in a cartoon.

3. Even though I’m already in my pyjamas, we decided on the spur of the moment to go to Leeds to watch B’s new band play. The PA is a little too loud, a little distorted in the small space but we enjoy the gig all the same: the drums – played with big padded beaters and brushes – are considerably more interesting than one might expect, the guitar “solos” & vocal harmonies are pleasant and a surprise cover makes our night.

0. Last night, John had been umming and ahhing about whether to go to the office, and when I wake suddenly and can’t feel him beside me, I think I’ve overslept and he’s gone. Then, later, I wake again and he’s there, in bed beside me, and it’s not even time to get up yet (I just hadn’t reached far enough the first time).

1. The towels hang flat on the line. The duck egg blues and faded lime-yellows look fresh and spring-like.

2. While sorting though some old papers, I discover I’m living as my 11 year old self wanted. (This is nice, because so often I feel like I have let down my teenage self. Only the shocking low number of cats in our household – only three?! – would disappoint me in Year 7 and, to be frank, this disappoints me at 34 as well. We need more cats!)

3. It’s been a strange day – unpleasantly humid and marked with small but jarring happenings – but it ends well: actual comfort food (enchiladas) with comfort-food-esque entertainment (random episodes of 30 Rock).

3b. The bright halo around the moon.

1. We share our favourite cheese jokes. Each one makes John bellow with laughter.

– What do you call a cheese that’s not yours? Nacho cheese
– What cheese is best for people who talk to themselves? Halloumi
– What cheese is best for hiding a horse? Mascarpone
– What cheese do you use to entice a grizzly? Camembert
– How do you defuse a cheese bomb? Caerphilly
– What’s left after an explosion at Jamaican cheese factory? De Brie

2. I repot some houseplants: they fit so much better into their new homes and using one of my handmade pots is a special treat – the succulent fits it perfectly and it makes the pot look better, more real, too.

2b. The weeds, which have been bothering me for the last fortnight, come up quickly.

2c. To finally use my new whirly-gig airer (a year after I bought it).

2d. I can’t find one of the chickens – I look up and down the garden, and in the coop in case she’s laying, but she is nowhere to be found. Finally, I walk into the woods and there, amongst the nettles and brambles, stands a shock of orange. She gives me a bemused look: why had I been calling her? She’d been stood there all along.

3. A glass of squash at lunch time. Boy, I needed that.

0. I turn over in the soft light of dawn – I’m in the most comfortable slumped position but know that it’ll hurt my back if I stay like that without support for long. As if reading my mind, Lily creeps up the bed and lies exactly where I need her to.

1. A short amount of playing gives us a multitude of ideas.

2. John suggests we walk to the woods the other way – the long way around the main road – to make the most of the surprise sunshine. The next house along’s shrubs are coming into their own; ‘for sale’ signs now declare themselves sold; the demolition is starting at the old warehouse; the willow is mirrored in the canal; the broad beans in the raised beds look strong and healthy; the canal (from the other side) is so still that tiny droplets from the bridge cause wide ripples below; the three chestnut horses swish their tails; the almost lime leaves on the baby beech saplings; a squeeked conversation in the undergrowth; John puts his hand on the craggy straight trunk as he passes; a comfortable silence; the clean water pooled on top of the bin; he catches her lead before it goes through the puddle. We made the most of more than just the nice weather.

3. It’s usually inconsequential soft furnishing in tv shows or films that distract me but this time it’s all the different window shutters.

1. I sow the mental seeds for various new projects – and most importantly, I figure out the next steps for at least some of them.

2. The cute dog holds its own lead in its mouth.

3. A good thick layer of dust on the upper book shelves.

3b. As I wipe the photo albums, I quickly flick through them. I’m surprised by how young we all look – even the ‘mature students’ amongst our group are almost a decade younger than I am now.

3c. Tilda creeps around the corners of the wet carpet.

4. A silly joke is revived and made even sillier.

1. A long walk through the woods, chatting about this and that.

1b. After yesterday’s cyanotype printing, I can’t stop looking at the shapes of leaves. I want to print a collection of edibles, a collection of spring-time plants, a collection mapping our walks… And when I get home, the ideas continue. Me being me, who knows if any of them will come to life but it’s exciting to think about them now all the same.

1c. To remember why I write these things every day: to accentuate the positive, as they say.

2. The onion slices cleanly under the sharp knife. (I only really appreciate this in hindsight when a later, less fresh, onion doesn’t behave as nicely.)

2b. I open the door – not because I need to vent smoke or steam from the kitchen but just to listen to bird song while I cook.

3. The sound of animals dreaming or snoring nearby.

3b. Tilda wakes from a dream that involves a lot of lip licking then goes into the kitchen for some water. Perhaps she was dreaming of drinking – or eating salty food.