Category3BT

Based on the Three Beautiful Things project by Clare Law, I try to write about three pleasant things from my day.

Mmm cheese, likes it there, cat love

1. The risotto is cheesier than normal. On the fine line between sickly and perfect comfort food, I wouldn’t like it every time but for a one-off, it’s delicious.

2. Deposited there for the duration of our supermarket visit, Lily sits on the living room rug, tail wagging, and watches me say goodbye to Katherine. By the time we reach the store, just a mile or so away, Katherine sends me a photo of Lily on her back on the sofa, receiving a belly rub. She loves her auntie Katherine.

3. It’s cooler today so the cats are catching up on love. Carla attaches herself to me all evening until I go to bed, when Boron takes her place. He even snuggles under the duvet next to me – his winter spot – and we cuddle as I fall asleep.

A scene I reference way too much, treat time for them, treat time for me

1. The rain pools on the freshly painted metal work, like the melted liquid metal in Terminator 2.

2. They like it when we visit with treats. They love the borage leaves almost as much as the corn. When they’ve finished, the black-flecked chicken always checks very carefully that I’m not hiding more about my person – my jean studs get investigated, my fingers pecked and I’ve learned to be more careful when bending over without a belt. Today, she stands at my feet – at the very ends of my shoes – and stares directly upwards, eyes pleading. I swear I hear the word “corn” in her bwaarrwarkwarks.

3. Both my cups of tea have been perfect today but the second one is made even better because we picked up a pack of dark chocolate digestives at lunchtime. I sit in the armchair, eating them and enjoying the moment: I don’t have to be at work, I don’t have to be in Bingley, I don’t have to be thinking about going to Bingley, I can just sit.

Breakfast, animals x 3, showcase x3

1. The sweetness of the crisp bacon, the sourness of the muffin, the silkiness of the scrambled egg and the substantial chewiness of the sausage. A great breakfast.

2. Animals:

a) The chickens cluck around me, interested in what I’m doing to their drinker, to their grit hopper and to their coop. When I’m working on their nest boxes – in the strip of no-man’s-land outside their enclosed run, they gather around the run door watching and waiting for my return into their world – or plotting their escape, it’s hard to tell which. After I’m done, I take them borage leaves and before I can bend down to give them out, one cheeky girl flies up and snatches one out of my hand. Definitely getting braver.

b) She looks like a puppy when her back legs bounce up at the same time. I think she knows it too, knows to do that so we can’t help but fall in love with her more.

c) Boron is asleep in Lily’s bed – her big dog bed that’s actually a bit too big for her. Boron looks tiny in the cushioned oval, his extended paw clawing on/off at the blanket as I talk to him.

3. The last night of the showcase:

a) The scrap of paper – torn to just the minimum then folded many times to much delight – finally makes it back to me just in time for the start of the show.

b) I’m more nervous tonight than I have been because John’s in the audience and I want them to do a good job so he’ll enjoy it. Afterwards, he says he did.

c) From where I’m sat, I can’t see the action, just a slither of stage at the very back. Their shadows – from many different light sources – are overlaid so many times that they’re abstract strips of light and dark.

Send her to sleep, like I’m asleep, too enjoyable

1. She’s over-excited and hot so I start to brush her. The panting slows as she calms down and within minutes, it’s replaced by the sound of gentle snoring.

2. I peer down the short road. Even though I’ve passed it every night this week on the bus (and countless times before that), it still strikes me as odd – the buildings are not unusual for around there but the dimensions and shop signs are just off, making the whole thing somewhat disconcerting – and it feels like I’m looking down a road in a strange town. I spend a lot of time looking down such mysterious roads in my dreams and it’s always slightly jarring when it happens in real life.

3. The four square ice cubes swirl in unison as I pour the cold liquid onto them. It’s terribly pleasing.

Mystery marinade, good show, cooling down

1. I throw various things into the marinade and when I’m spreading it on the meat, I worry it’s too many flavours – but it isn’t. The crisp skin is salty and spicy, but more than that too – rounded, pleasantly complex. Another George’s Marvellous Medicine cooking attempt worked out well.

2. When they hold hands – something I’ve been begging them to do when the wife offers everything to make her husband happy – I nearly cheer. They — all the groups — do so well, I’m so proud.

3. Finally feeling cool again as the night air chills the sweat on my skin.

Living art, relocation, no question

1. The daddy long legs, stretched out off centre on the plain blue wall, looks like an art piece.

2. She comes to get me, mid-afternoon, and tells me to sit on her sofa with her for a while. She wants to snuggle into me, to wriggle on me and get some love – and she can’t do that easily when I’m sat at my desk.

3. The instant acceptance is surprising – I help with costumes, we banter back and forth, and I get swatted with snowy tennis rackets.