1. I should have been at a course but after a week of fighting illness, I decide I have to give in to it. I slump on the sofa instead and spend the afternoon thinking about things I’d like to do in the future.

1b. Lily joins me in the slumping.

2. Listening to music – Kathryn Williams, Bonnie Prince Billy, King Creosote – that I haven’t listened to in a little while.

3. John returns home with a curious thing – a variation on a drinking bird ornament. It’s impossible to not play with it.

1. Kaufman rolls on his back on my desk then accepts a very snuggly cuddle. Strange nibbles at the offered cat nip leaf then accepts a very snuggly cuddle too. Tilda gets her cuddles – a belly rub – on the bath mat, and even next door’s lovely kitty gets in on the action, with a tickle at the bottom of the steps near the greenhouse.

2. Grey clouds gather as I’m watering the allotment plots and as I lock the gate, it starts spitting – I’m only wearing a t-shirt, I have to walk the dog, I think I’m going to get drenched — but I don’t. And then the sun comes out again.

3. Being outside in the colourful garden on a lovely summer evening (even though it’s shady where the bbq is) invigorates us, and we all brim with fresh energy and good humour. The BBQ-ed chicken is very nice too (my banana experiments, not so much; though everyone eats their fill of marshmallows).

3b. S asks if Lily has run around the garden properly yet – and though we’ve been out there the whole time, she’s hasn’t, she’s hung close. He gees her up and they’re off, running across the grass together.

3c. We go off on one about toast.

1. A very chatty vet. There are no other patients waiting so he gives Lily a very thorough examination and explains to everything to us clearly.

2. I finally can plant out my squashes and other things, like fennel and lettuce seedlings, and in the new plastic greenhouse tomatoes, aubergines and a cucumber. (I’m spreading my greenhouse stuff between my three greenhouses to see what grows best where.) The tiny seedlings all look scrawny in the expanses of soil but they’ll grow, oh yes, they’ll grow.

3. After dinner, we wander over to the supermarket to buy ice creams. It’s warmer outside than it is at home.

1. For the last lesson of my coloured clay course, we have a raku firing session to see how that’s different. My raku pieces are disappointing but I pick up my conventionally fired pieces from the first week – they’re lovely.

2. I’ve popped the smaller chilli seedlings back into the heated propagator to give them a warmth boost: it works, they nearly double in size in a day.

3. A big cup of tea on the balcony.

3b. I climb up the hill and sit in a sunny spot on the edge of the woodland. Later, we walk through the meadow – well, I walk, Lily springs.

1. The previous night’s wind barely touched the allotments. I’m pleased to see how my beans and peas managed to get a good grip before the weather turned.

2. The bass drum is powerful yet round. The vocals beautifully harmonise and provided so much extra texture. The sound in general is amazing – full but we’re able to pick everything out separately if we try.

2b. The way he lifts his heels is terribly endearing.

2c. The worst thing about the gig is that I know how many possible shows we’ve missed over the last few years (we’ve been trying to see them for at least three): I know we’ll see them again but we can’t make those up now.

3. Gelato on the way home/to O’s to pick up Lily.

3b. The moon has tempted us for the whole journey. We look at it through the binoculars during Lily’s bedtime wee until our eyes smart from the brightness.

1. Kaufman wants to sleep on the exact same spot as my keyboard. I work at an angle to let him.

2. I finalise some long pending stitching designs. (Though I’ve kinda promised myself that I won’t start them until I’ve finished my crewel project.)

3. My fever gives cold John another reason to hug me in bed and his coolness is very welcome for once.