Based on the Three Beautiful Things project by Clare Law, I try to write about three pleasant things from my day.
1. We share the delight of both getting our jackets – the same soft hoodie – for a sale price. (Her way of getting a bargain was very clever, mine was down to dumb luck.)
2. The tiniest dog on a thick, bright red lead.
3. To find something new after all this time and to discover, to great delight, I’m not as bad as I think I’ll be at it.
1. I wasn’t convinced about the colour of the tiles when they were in the box but up on the wall, after hours of fighting with adhesive and tile trim, I love it. It’s vaguely reminiscent of the tiling in a Victorian public toilet – but in a good way.
2. Fur, specifically feline belly fur, feels super soft when my hands are dry and sore.
3. The bone Lily-dog is holding pushes her upper lips in such a way that she appears to have a wide, goofy grin. I laugh and it looks like she’s laughing too. :)
1. The moment in decorating when the ends feels not necessarily imminent but at least possible.
2. I find envelope stuffing strangely pleasurable: refining my system until it is as efficient as possible so the task takes on a repetitive, meditative quality.
3. A cream-filled lemon muffin.
1. Having a bath, like watching a film, during daylight hours always feels remarkably decadent, even when it’s following many hours of decorating.
2. Whenever I’m doing any DIY, I listen to Radio 6: periods of renovation in this house always result in new (to us) music but this time an old favourite pops up too – an live performance and interview with Kathryn Williams as part of her new project The Pond. I fell in love with her album ‘”Little Black Numbers’ while on a super relaxing holiday in Lindisfarne a few years ago and whenever I listen to it, I’m reminded of the wonderful air, light and ambience of the island. Today was the first time I’ve heard her interviewed though and I am delighted to hear she’s warm, funny and down to earth. The Pond’s music is fab too – can’t wait for the album.
3. I stretch out on the bed and watch the light fade from the sky. The silver birch is perfectly still. All around birds call out to each other one last time before dusk.
1. I spread out the newspaper on the floor so I can read it while I’m eating my breakfast. Then read it while I’m tickling doggy belly. Then read it while I’m kissing cat head. Boron purrs loudly. (That last statement is true of both then and now.)
2. Just when we’re both getting bored of the decorating, the doorbell rings: surprise visitors in the form of our lovely neighbours who have been in Ghana & Nambia these last six months doing doctoring things. Over tea and more animal tickles, they tell us about farting hippos, mating lions and elephants that hide round corners.
3. To keep remembering we have lasagne from John’s mum for dinner so we don’t have to cook ourselves. I do like to cook but I like not having to cook even more :)
1. The colourful fat stripes of his socks and my cardigan on the white airer.
2. I tidied the greenhouse on Thursday, moved the winter ground cover from the chicken run on Friday and tidied the space between the enclosed run & the rest of the garden today. Small changes but they make the garden feel more manageable again.
3. The strange glee derived from rushing around a virtual village, searching for pretend Easter, um, I mean “Noblegarden” eggs with complete strangers. The hunt is as ferocious and good natured as if they were real chocolate eggs in a garden. I’m more than happy to wait around for people to give me temporary bunny ears.
© 2025 Louisa Parry