1. I had plans for today but after the cats disturbed my sleep, I don’t feel like doing any of them. I read for a while then do some Duolingo, then after lunch, I head upstairs to put away the pile of clean laundry that has been accumulating in the bedroom. Tilda sees me sorting it on the bed and jumps up for a cuddle amongst the clothes. When she settles down for a nap, I join her. I’m glad I can have this sort of day if needs be.

2. A dog walk in the golden hour. John declares all our walks should take place at this beautiful time. I point out that due to our disorganisation/tendency to leave things to the last minute, they do.

3. Cooler nights means more cuddling – snuggling together for warmth. Hurrah for autumn.

1. I stick my face into a sun-warmed Kaufman belly.

1b. Tilda and Lily have a little cute moment initiated by Tilda. Then when Tilda is done, Lily potters after her, wanting to continue the sniffing.

2. A more exciting invitation interrupts our lazy evening plans.

2b. The moon – full and low – shines through the gap in the cloud. We chase it the whole way to Leeds.

2c. The rounds of meat sizzle into more conventional shapes on the grill. Later, we watch the prawns transform from grey to pink.

3. Little tiny pink buds on the end of the Christmas cactus leaves.

1. The vivid blue sheet. The colour is freshly vibrant and the cloth itself is in an fine condition – quite amazing given it’s older than me.

2. I listen to a podcast extolling jam-making while pruning my raspberry bushes.

2b. I cut back the holly bushes too – a largely thankless task since it doesn’t look much improved at the end of it and my arms are ripped to shreds but there are some nice bits: saying hello to Lily from somewhere she doesn’t expect and the moment when the branches finally submit to my secateurs or saw.

3. The tart raspberry cuts through the rich chocolate. The texture change between cake and jelly is pleasant too.

1. We can’t resist the giant meringues – they look like colourful clouds. John probably wins with his raspberry one but my vanilla has delicious toffee undertones.

1b. After the deli at the abbey, we go to Coopers. The server mentions the pie of the day as part of his spiel and my ears prick up. The slice I get is filled – utterly filled – with chunks of succulent chicken and smokey chorizo, and the whole roasted carrot & parsnips stacked on top looks as marvelous as they are tasty.

2. Out of the blue, my old friend A provides me with an answer to a question I’d asked myself (but not him) a few weeks earlier about a camping trip we went on 18 years ago. He also sends over some photos that I didn’t know existed.

3. The smell of the dough that John’s kneading in the kitchen.

1. Bacon butties as a hangover cure for John. Bacon butties as a delicious naughty lunch for me.

2. We’re whistling a duet of the Mario theme when a squirrel appears on the woodstore. It runs along the roof, jumps down a level to run back, then trots down the steps in perfect time with the tune.

3. Early in the day, I’d read about someone’s encounter with a very friendly cat and I’d felt an almost physical craving to have the same experience. Later, Strange demands a tickle, standing inches from my face to capture my attention: it looks like I got my wish.

1. A sudden rainstorm vindicates my laziness – if I’d got up and put the washing out, it would have ended up wetter than it started. Hurrah for inclement weather!

2. I lose Lily in the woods – or rather she loses me because the path takes me behind some trees while she’s busy sniffing something. I rush back up the path (one I don’t recall ever seeing from that direction) and to the millstone steps, aware that she could easily have gone in three different directions – but then I see her, standing a little way down the top path, looking out over the hillside trying to locate the sound of my voice. We’re apart for perhaps a whole minute but are both very happy to reconnect again.

3. The variety of textures, shapes and colours in the pan.