Based on the Three Beautiful Things project by Clare Law, I try to write about three pleasant things from my day.
1. A scratch-scratch-scratch. I open the door and a little boy & two little girls are waiting together to be admitted into the room of cosy-warm.
2. In previous days, I may have been sad that the pie tin was too big for the cats but instead I get to be happy that it’s perfectly sized for the dog.
3. The cats flank me, one either side of my laptop. Boron leans in for head kisses (my lips are on his head as I type this) while Carla simply purrs.
1. Six are huddled together on the perches and the seventh in the nest box she’s still not outgrown. They cluck softly as I peek in to check they’re all in bed. Turn out the light. You’re letting the cold in. Go away, I’m trying to sleep here.
2. We spend a lot of time together, a LOT. But quality time is still a rare treat.
3. She’s so excited to see him that she doesn’t know which way to run so she runs every way at once.
4. Sat on my shoulder, his fur is so soft and warm against my ear. I wonder how I can convince the other cat to sit on the other side and be another purring earmuff.
1. The two dogs run around fighting over THE BEST STICK IN THE WORLD while he builds a dam in the beck. His handiwork will divide the water more equally between the two paths, so the one close to the path flows better. I know it’ll be washed away next time it rains heavily but it doesn’t matter. I tell him his hands must be freezing and he just smiles. The dogs play on.
2. Smoked mackerel fishcakes with my favourite salad leaves on a mild horseradish sauce base. Perfectly cooked chicken breast with sweet potato dauphinoise, with carrots, broccoli and deliciously tangy red cabbage. Lemon and ginger cheesecake without, our favourite waiter tells us proudly, fingerprints in the dusted icing sugar.
3. We rock back and forth in a hug as I tell him about the meal. He says he enjoyed it from just what I was saying. Then he goes in the bath and I sit next to him in the warm bathroom and enjoy that by proxy as well.
1. To wake up and find that after all that noise, there is no storm damage to the garden. Or rather, the only damage is both minor and desirable.
2. We drive out to see our chicken man. The views are different but as equally as stunning as they were on the balmy June evening of our last visit. He, and his lovely old dog, take us around the different sheds and we pick four girls to bring home – two pure breeds and two black rocks. He catches them with a strong fisherman’s net: “the best thing I ever bought”, he tells us.
3. A well timed cup of sweet tea.
1. The last flashes of summer – a slowly ripening chilli, a sweet pea flower curving up to the light, the scent of the brushed basil in the porch.
2. I wish I had a tail to wag too, then we could run around in wagging unison when he comes home from the office. Instead, she gets to do the waggledy running in circles thing and get a hug.
3. The constant roar is like an unrelenting sea – the gales force winds buffeting through the near naked trees. Then when we turn the light off to go to sleep, it suddenly stops. For two, three minutes, the world is silent.
1. With each cough, his tongue pokes out further. It is almost impossibly cute.
2. A long walk at lunchtime. We bat some ideas around and enjoy the sun streaming into the empty woods.
3. The one person paying attention, the one person amongst the chaos who wants to listen and learn.
© 2025 Louisa Parry