1. The drizzle becomes a crackle, almost a hiss, as the thousands of droplets hit the duck pond.

2. Theatre is so grossly big compared to television, where a single longer-than-normal blink can say it all.

3. We’re working on a routine for the start of the play and their ideas – and natural clowning abilities – are hilarious. Someone comes in to tell us we’re laughing too loudly: we were having too much fun.

(Today, it’s ten years since I bought my first house. I can’t believe I’m starting to measure the time since I did some very grown-up things in decades!)

1. The way she folds the foil – in half, in half again, then a quick flick for each side – is very pleasing.

2. Each section of the pattern is checked one last time then printed out. I staple them together with a note about colour codes. I feel very organised. // The canvas tight on the frame; the excess neatly folded over and secured with green thread. // I’m surprised how fast it goes and the first section is completely before bedtime. I had been a little unsure of the colours but together, it is just about perfect.

3. I look out at the blue night as the discordant notes of Dead Leg (by Admiral Fallow) moan away.

1. The snow on Wood Hill is trashed – its steep slope drawing in all and sundry for sledging – but beyond, there are stretches of virgin snow: no human has been this way since the “proper snow” fell at the weekend. I follow the path made by paw prints through the hidden brambles, trying to identify the animals (other than Lily) who have passed that way before me.

2. The momentary look of bafflement, eyes flicking left and right, as they try to remember which way is port and which starboard.

2b. I introduce a new game and laugh at their instant, unbashed cheating.

3. I have an inability to create consist French knots but I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED. I swap between different threads and tie knot after knot. An hour later, I no longer have the aforementioned inability, and now je les adore!

1. The clouds turn the duck pond pink.

2. None of the recipes say to use ginger but I think it makes sense so throw it in anyway. The tiny pieces hide amongst the flakes of saltfish, adding a warm roundness to each mouthful.

3. To re-enter the fictional world and sand off the rough bits.

1. Wet white flecks on a chestnut brown head.

2. The warm golden clouds against the icy blue sky. In the foreground, the tree branches look almost black in contrast to their new white blankets.

3. The thick, almost purple liquid plops and swirls into the coconut milk.

1. The strips of colours – samples of fabric I dyed on my “natural dyeing” course on Saturday – look even more beautiful in daylight: a rainbow against the white tiles. The solid pieces are rich and alive compared to the flat consistency of synthetic dyes, and the patterns on some of the deliberately mottled ones are wonderfully organic.

2. Wild laughter from a simple game and later, complete concentration as they play the fool.

3. The warmth of the heavy dog against my body.