1. I spin the purple a little too thinly so draw lines on my finger to guide my next sample. The watery blue-green fibres look good that bit thicker.

2. I doodle on the squared paper while I count cars. Some of my patterns will have to be transferred to my sketch book: they’ll look good in ceramics or textiles.

3. The film is not anywhere near as good as we’d been led to believe, but perfect inspiration for making jokes.

4. Just as we’re going to sleep, a little weight arrives with a chirp and makes a nest on top of us.

1. We expand on a character we half invented the night before: “Wait! Watch! Tom Weightwatchers waits, watching weights.”

2. We call our favourite glazes by their proper names like they’re old friends – Jack’s, Janet de Boos, my favourite earthenware glaze, Anna Lambert, and finally Alan’s Mistake. (Glazes are usually named after the ceramicist that devised the recipe/base recipe, or, in the case of the last one, the person that made them up at the studio.)

2b. For the first time, I mix up my own glaze (perhaps one day it’ll be known as “Louisa’s?) – a mustard yellow. I find the process surprisingly straightforward, and the mix works into a deliciously smooth paste in no time at all.

2c. To be able to tell someone how many people have admired her work recently.

3. I card wool while I’m counting cards. Only lit by an orange street light, I can’t see the subtlety of the colour blend: I’d intended it to be uniform but the variation is so pretty. I couldn’t have got it like that if I’d tried.

3b. A page in a book blows my mind – so many possible patterns from a basic “plain weave”. I skim through the rest of the book – to the much more advanced, complicated patterns – but I know I’ll be more than happy in the basic section for a good while yet.

1. Tilda keeps me company as I clean the bathroom (aka supervising me in one of her rooms).

2. Her name is the same as mine, just the opposite way around. I start to make an evil twin joke but hold back – I don’t know her well enough yet so I’ll keep my evil status quiet for now.

2b. Experimenting with different techniques on little tiny pieces.

3. P and I laugh as Tilda shuffles onto her back in the hammock with her feet stretched out as far as they’ll go. Kaufman stands to grab the weighted string. Strange comes to find me, as she always does when we have company, on the fireside chair.

1. Sometimes the combination of bread, butter and a dry cheddar really hits the spot.

2. The creamy risotto and the crunch of the spinach.

3. Strange watches the videos without blinking. She shuffles into position to pounce – which alerts her brother to the scene. He slides in next to her and doesn’t blink either.

3b. We exchange videos of aesthetically pleasing things. Watching an axe being made by hand is possibly the most interesting.

0. A night of solid sleep. (This is not terribly unusual of late, since I’ve been sleeping better since the turn of the new year, but it’s still nice.)

1. It’s cold but sunny, and not as windy as it has been. R joins us for a walk – nominally to talk about the housing development but we, thankfully, talk about just about anything but.

2. The warm cosiness that envelopes me after dinner.

3. Strange’s little feet hanging off the cat tower; Lily’s stately face when she wants something – ears up, mouth firm, eyes bright and trying to transmit thoughts into our brain.

1. Tilda rubs up against my wet legs after my shower.

2. I visit the allotment to make sure everything is alright after the snap of cold weather. The only prints in the snow are from little kitty paws.

2b. A patch of green grass that looks spring-like rather than wintery, in the otherwise icy park.

2c. It’s a good doggy walk: I am delighted to finally find out where Friendly Black Dog lives (in case I feel the need to steal him and have his friendliness all to myself); we meet a little dog in the park, being proudly walked by a young boy; and E, a dog we’ve known for quite a while but who has always been somewhat aloof, recognises me and grins as she approaches for a tickle.

3. We have another productive meeting: jobs are assigned and nothing feels insurmountable.

3b. The cat and dog stand together, sniffing the carpet where the technician had knelt.

4. The paneer is particularly cheesy. This is good.