1. The sun is warm enough that I can hang out washing for the first time this year. The cats rub against my legs.

1b. Later, at the other end of the day, I go outside to fetch it in again. I get distracted from my chore by stars and a passing satellite(the sky is clear and Jupiter is bright) and bats (I’d heard them on Saturday but today is the first sighting of the year). Later, I nip out onto the balcony to watch the ISS pass overhead: it’s almost as bright as Jupiter.

2. I gently toast in the sun as I work at the allotment.

2b. Lily plops into the pond, makes herself a nest in my dug over bed and greatly enjoys some ear tickles when I take a break.

2c. I take one of the patio chairs into the greenhouse to sit down while I pot on the tomatoes. Genius idea. My back screams in gratitude.

3. Tilda pads my bare arm. Her claws scratch in their motion but I don’t stop her.

1. We both suddenly remember there is leftover pizza for lunch – the surprise makes it even better.

2. John claims to be waiting for his quadcopter to do something but actually he’s just sat in the sun. It’s past mid-afternoon but it’s still strong and warm.

2b. A sneaky tray of seeds sown then slipped into the propagator – it hadn’t been on my plan for today but it’s good they’re done.

2c. Lacking the proper tools I’d use at Hive, the cutting is a bit bodgey but a little sanding sorts it out. Two new shuttles, just the size I need.

3. We talk about taking the longer route but our feet carry us on the shorter one. We’re feeling lazy and the dog is feeling old so we’re all happy with the change of plan. (We do though expend the energy to play aeroplanes as we walk through the oak wood.)

1. John is giddy all day, looking for his new toy. He tries out different options and his playing (and understanding) gets better unbelievably quickly.

1b. I want John to come out of the shop and phone me to find where I am, because my description will start with the line “walk towards the big giant cat…”

1c. I’ve gone through that tunnel – the one going towards the gyratory from Junction 2 – hundreds if not thousands of time but it still reminds me of one of the first time, when we were moving to Leeds: stuck on that route in the rush hour traffic, Carla & Carbon giving mournful meows. I miss my girl and boy.

1d. I haven’t even finished saying the sentence complaining about how busy it will surely be before we find a space to park.

2. We all have a little taste of the tiny sweet pastries. We try to discourage Z from wanting any more by telling him the green pistachio creamy is bogeys.

3. A deliciously sweet and spicy curry sauce, then a new game (which I win!).

1. John doesn’t quite trust me when I tell him to pull on the thread: the knot seems to be growing tighter and more tangled but then, at the last second, it just pops apart.

1b. Getting my corrected warp wound back into place again.

2. I have a meowed conversation with a cat, thinking it’s Strange on the balcony but when Strange walks by, we realise it must be an actual strange cat. I step into the kitchen and see a cute questioning face at the cat flap.

3. I’m glad we rediscovered how nice baths are.

1. I measure my gardening time in podcasts: two extended In Our Time (on the Bluestockings and The Domesday Book) and a Discovery.

1b. Kaufman rolls around on the roof of the chickens’ nesting boxed. His fur crackled with static as I stroke him. In the distance, a woodpecker hammers at a tree.

1c. Everything repotted and refreshed.

2. The lighter evenings mean I don’t have to watch the clock. I have a good couple of hours digging and weeding at the allotment before John comes over and we take Lily to play in the park.

3. Finally untangling a giant knot.

3b. An instructional video suggests getting “a friend” to hold the threads under tension while they’re wound on to the back beam. Whenever I reach this stage of my warping, John declares “I’m a friend!” and jumps up to help. My favourite friend.

1. A long walk through the woods. I cut across a spot that will soon be overgrown, along a rockface that would be perfect for bouldering.

2. I run out of both warp and weft around the same time. I carefully tie a neat fringe then take it off the loom. It has a wonderful drape – possibly too soft for my intended purpose (a bag for my shuttles and pick up sticks etc). Oh well, I guess that means I have to make something else!

3. Lily’s fur is extra silky after her shower. I stroke one of her brown patches until she falls asleep.

3b. Strange on her back, clasping at her tail with her front paws and hugging my fingers with her back ones.