1. Mum comes to visit and we go to Art’s for lunch. The acidity of the chopped gherkins take her by surprise but we both enjoy the bread: soft and flavourful with a perfect crust.

1b. Though she used to be a regular visitor, it’s been a while since she was in Leeds city centre. I take her around all the sights that have changed in the meantime from Trinity to the Tiled Hall in the library/art gallery. Seeing it through comparatively new eyes, I see Leeds has really transformed itself over the last few years.

2. We get the bus home, sitting on the top deck so I can show off the sights and the prettiness: my old house was up in those trees, that’s the 12th century abbey (or at least its ruins), there’s the miles of green valley leading off to the moors in the distance and there’s the cows who sometimes surprise us with their moos.

3. My mum doesn’t want to get itchy stroking Strange, but Strange won’t accept her lack of attention: she places herself between us so we both have to tickle her. Later, I play a video on my phone and Strange taps at the screen, trying to catch the squirrel.

1. Tilda, politely, sweetly, asks for her food bowl to be refilled, please, if you have a sec, if it isn’t too much trouble. I pull a 10kg sack of cat food from a box and tell her it’s all for her.

2. Sheets on the line, rippling in the sunshine.

3. Wiping away the water marks from the shower door.

1. The blocks make pleasing noises as we drop them.

2. I carry home a handful of yellow tomatoes and a large orange pumpkin.

3. A pair of cats, one of either side of him, curl into balls as he tickles their bellies.

1. Lily lies on her back and we both stroke her belly and legs.

2. Pointing out where I worked and where I ate lunch

2b. The support band make me feel old but I enjoy them all the same. The lead singer takes off his shoes at one point and dances around in his socks. The bass player and drummer do a couple of bits at the end of songs, and when they start a cover of a song, the lead singer of the Polyphonic Spree runs onto stage to sing with them (the support band lead singer looks beside himself with glee).

2c. When the whole band – all 15 of them – fill the stage.

2d. I’m worried John is bored or annoyed but he’s loving it – he says it’s so powerful that he has tears in his eyes. They put such energy and enthusiasm into the shows that it’s impossible not to dance.

2e. The lead singer puts such effort into individually looking at everyone in the first few rows, having a moment with everyone – of engaging the audience so thoroughly – that I’m still not entirely convinced they’re not a cult.

3. Gelato and robots

3b. Lily’s been playing O in the same way she plays her pop-pops – by asking to go outside every 30 minutes. And like her pop-pops, he indulges her.

1. Continuing with the Heritage Open Weekend events, we join a walking tour of Manningham. John grew up nearby (with the tour guides as neighbours in fact) but had no idea about the secret squares and wonderful histories of buildings hiding in plain sight.

2. The walk starts at Lister’s Mill, high on the hill, and afterwards, we go down to Lister’s old house – Cartwright Hall in what is now Lister Park – for the World Curry Festival. We pass stall after stall of possibilities but are most tempted by the giant curved pans rimmed with colourful ingredients: naans, topped with meat (& paneer) and veggies – delicious.

2b. Her mum and I enjoy the little girl waiting at the candy floss machine. She dances in the escaping swirls and laughs as it gets caught up in just everything.

2c. The candy floss which we eventually get is super sticky but lovely – mine is lightly vanilla while John’s is a sweet coconut.

3. Z gets the joke I’m badly making about Australia being upside-down.

1. Perfectly fluffy bread – usually something we avoid but for bacon butties, there is nothing finer.

2. It’s Heritage Open Weekend so we visit City Hall. Last time we were there (for the planning meeting in July), we only saw the boring business end on our way up to the (albeit magnificent) meeting hall. This time, we get to climb the stack of steps into the belly of the beast. Built in Bradford’s heyday, the opulence is dazzling – but we’re taken with the small things: the pencil lines on the balsa wood model of the building, the strange (manual) composition of the councillors’ picture from a hundred years ago, and the teeny tiny metal loom.

2b. Our niece – a few years older than her brother and cousins and becoming more aware of the age difference every day – retreats upstairs to escape from “the children”. I take her a book I’ve bought for her, which steps through how to draw cartoon animals. We draw a fox and a leopard together – and are pleasingly surprised by the simplicity & results.

3. For their (34th) birthdays, we buy them little hexibugs. We buy some for us too and then spend a ridiculous amount of time watching them race around between obstacles on our coffee table. (This hypnotises Lily too.) We enjoy the soft thrum sound as they walk but later, when we’re gaming, we try to use them to make the most grating noises – rattling beer caps against ceramics is a winner.

3b. After being laughably bad at it for a few weeks, I win my first point at Ricochet Robots.