1. Lily keeps me company at the allotment – perpetually sunbathing in the weedy spot I want to cut down. Sometimes I give in and just hug her instead of working.

1b. Cutting back the weeds makes all the intended plants look healthier and more distinct.

2. The longest queues I’ve ever seen at a polling station – and the woman at the desk tells me it’s been like that all day. I *almost* don’t care for whom people vote, as long as they vote. (*Almost*)

2b. We’ve been discussing it for weeks, going back and forth through the different options. In the end, by the time we’re entering the cubbies to make our marks, we’re confident in our choices and can vote with a clear conscience. No matter what happens, I’ll be glad about that.

3. The thin layers of sweet chocolatey buttercream.

1. Lily runs around the room like a little puppy, chasing the new chew bone.

1b. Later, upstairs, I offer her an older bone. She disappears from the room and I hear her plodding down the stairs. The next time I look up from my sewing, she is back on the sofa, looking smug, the new chew in her paws.

2. The two beagles, dressed in identical jackets, strain at the lead to meet Lily.

3. Without the overwhelming pepperoni, the other flavours stand out much more.

3b. We’re listing stereotypical things that men are supposed to do. He suggests “do DIY” but John and I both hear “doody” and laugh.

1. I have a twitchy muscle in my knee. Dr Google tells me it might be from a mineral deficiency and recommends I eat some leafy greens, a banana … or dark chocolate. I go for the latter on net-doctors’ orders.

2. We enjoy the view down the hill – the field, with its halo of beech leaves, glows green but the tall, straight oak trees break up the neon.

3. Chewy strings of mozzarella amongst the sauce.

1. I realise we don’t have to wait until after dinner to watch Game Of Thrones as normal: we watch it after breakfast, cuddled under a blanket.

1b. Tilda discovers the soft accordion case.

2. After two lazy days, I fancy a change so head out to the allotment. On the way, I bump into R and he shows me his garden. We discuss our growing – and writing – plans.

2b. Lily sits with me as I weed. She is relaxed and seems happy for the change of scenery.

2c. The woman has previously been standoffish, almost purposefully avoiding eye contact – but today she calls to me with a gift (some chicken for Lily) and we chat about the animals in our lives.

2d. A path made neat – and lower maintenance.

2e. The bag of weeds is heavy but I’m glad I made the effort: the chickens pull at the leaves while I look in the nest box — more eggs than we’ve had for ages!

2f. The Swiss chard seeds have sprouted faster than I thought: little red and yellow shots litter the pots.

3. Even crochet (or whip stitching as I’m doing now to join it together) feels like too much effort this evening. Gaming with a cat asleep in my lap and a snoring dog by my side feels more my speed.

My mum’s xxth birthday. (Number redacted to avoid a telling off ;) )

1. Progress on the blanket continues: first I finish all the squares, then I finish all the ends, then I try a few different layouts before I finally begin sewing it together. By bedtime, three out of eight stripes are complete.

2. Lily grins at me as we pull on our boots.

3. Strange sits in the long grass near the pear tree for the whole time I’m cooking dinner. Her fur clashes beautifully with the fresh green.

3b. The soup cooks for about an hour and the whole time I’m chopping and adding new veg to the pan. The result is hearty but not too rich, veg packed but far from boring.

1. A little bit of jam really adds to it.

2. We’ve had some busy weekends recently so today we do nothing. We stay in our pyjamas and indulge ourselves in our pleasures: I crochet and John plays with graphs.

2b. Giant buttons (the chocolate sort).

3. The tunes wrap around each other as they play.

3b. Perhaps having seen how besotted Lily is, Strange deigns to let M stroke her.