The general parent category for most of the things I write about on here.
One of the more interesting Louisa-centric sub-categories is biodata (where I explore my personal history with graphs, maps and whatnot), and if you’re that way inclined, you can read about the wonderful felines and canines with whom I’ve shared my life too.
1. Her freshly clipped coat feels like velvet.
2. We worry – as we always do – that the play is bordering on fighting but the woman assures us that it is definitely play. The dogs bounce around together amongst the oak trees as we talk about them behind their backs.
3. The slow-rise bread – 22 hours in the making – comes out of the oven too late to eat with dinner so we have it as dessert instead. Its golden dome is perfectly cracked, its centre spongy & bubbled.
1. The joy of a job finally finished – the last of our veg beds dug over and ready for seedlings. Years of ambivalence left them compacted and weed clogged so it’s been a chore to clear them out but I know that from here on in – next year and the years after that – it’ll be easier.
(1b. There are a couple of plants in the bed and the remnants of daffodils. I transplant what I can but one of the plants falls apart on the way. I salvage its blood red blooms.)
2. John explains that the wild food walk last weekend has changed how he looks at grassland – he no longer sees “just green” but the huge variety of different plants growing in a small area. We look around and spot sorrel, lady’s smock & purple thistles amongst the grass, clover & buttercups at our feet. Across the beck, the bank is full of flowering ramsons & chickweed, a cloud of white flowers giving way to late bluebell wilting up the hill. Definitely not “just green”.
3. I blow bubbles from the balcony. The wind catches them and they float up and out over the gardens.
1. While John’s out, we have a lazy day, the dog, the cats and me. I comb Lily for one cartoon, then Carla for another. Carla, despite being a third of the size of the dog, wins the fluff shedding contest. Both feel softer and smoother by the time the funnies come to an end.
2. The rain slows for the first time all day and we descend into the woods for a walk. The mist hangs in the air beneath the canopy and reflects the light, making the lower levels brighter than they should be. The beck water is higher than it has been for the last few weeks but in the pools, it’s unusually clear too. Lily runs around like a crazy thing, I dawdle behind.
3. Nothing tastes as good as leftovers.
1. I add the tomato ketchup to the sandwich but it keeps slipping off onto my fingers. Lick, lick, lick.
2. I finish my day working on a design/DTP project. It’s a while since I’ve done any work in Inkscape and it’s a lot of fun. The event the work is for should be a lot of fun too.
3. I take a decaff Earl Grey and a Wispa to bed with me. It’s decadent but delicious.
Between illness and busy-ness, May has been a tough month – I need to start Three Beautiful Thing-ing again to refocus on the good bits!
1. I sit in a pool of light in the woods reading about mysterious things in the dark depths of the sea.
2. We’ve left it too late to go to the shop before dinner but John improvises and it’s lovely.
3. The purring of the cat curled around my head drowns out the white noise of the rain.
© 2025 Louisa Parry