1. The smell of chicken stock fills the house but closer to home, my fingers smell of the garlic cloves I added to it earlier.

1b. A delightful lunch made up of the wings from the chicken, olives, carrot sticks and three tracks from Beth Jeans Houghton.

2. A dozen little caramel balls of thread and a dozen of teal. They’re probably older than me. They look so sweet in their little boxes and there is a temptation not to use them, just just keep them as a vintage novelty, but I hope I resist. Thread is made to be used.

3. Despite some avoidable (and some unavoidable) distractions, I reach the end of the day feeling like I’ve worked hard and achieved good things. (This is quite unusual!)

A geeky blog I read called today Superb Owl Sunday: a day for looking at pictures of Superb Owls. I don’t usually partake in mass cultural events but this one, I can get behind ;)

1. We’ve been hearing faint puppy noises for about a week now but thought they were floating on the breeze from the house across the valley – but today I head into the garden to find our neighbours out next door with the latest addition to their family. The puppy is tiny and I squee loudly when our neighbour picks up the ball of fluff for introductions. I coo even louder when she’s put back down and bounces around on the terrace.

1b. The chickens pad around the garden. The new ones squat down as I approach (their feathers are still super silky soft) but old Green is preoccupied by the bundle of fur excitedly watching them from the balcony.

2. The house is too quiet without both Lily and John. I pop on the radio to fill the void while I tidy the kitchen and joint the chicken. The half hour or so starts with Heard It Through The Grapevine and Last Night and later includes the Velvet Underground, Regina Spektor and The Ramones. I (blitzkrieg) bop around the room.

3. Lily stares at me from across the room, hugely jealous that I have my face buried in the cat’s fur. I think she is trying to telepathically transmit the information that she too has belly fur worthy of face burial.

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.