Tagboron

3BT – musty, dusty, surreal, feral, exploration

1. My fingers smell of old, dried glue.

2. A circle of matte green-grey shoots have appeared in the garden. Only time will tell what they’ll be.

3. As I leave the theatre, a woman is holding a fake hand prop in her arms like a sleeping baby.

4. Carbon spot it first: a fox running down the road outside our house – the first we’ve seen here. We watch it until it disappears back into the woods.

5. The cats decide that 10pm on a chilly January evening is the ideal time to explore the front of the house. Carbon runs a beat across the empty recycling bins then climbs a tree; Carla explores the street and the gardens across the road; and Boron, manic-eyed Boron, celebrates every new outside discovery by racing back into the house to check everything’s alright in there. I stand under the street light and watch it all.

3BT – reward + walk = rewalk, can’t wait, so soft

1. I finish an unpleasant task a lot quicker than I expect which means I have time for a walk with the cats in the woods. They bounce and chase through the decaying leaves then follow me home.

2. I learn about herbs from one book and wild foods from the other. I can’t wait for Spring to kick in.

3. The new brushed cotton sheet is taut and heavenly.

3BT – purring, suits you, changes, soup, window

1. Boron has inserted himself between us while we slept so when I wake up, he’s under the duvet, with his head resting on my pillow next to mine. We stay there for at least an hour until John wakes up and he purrs a deep, satisfied purr the whole time.

2. We decide to finally implement something we’ve been talking about for a couple of months – we go to the RSPCA to see about adopting a dog. We meet two boys who have lived with cats before and we’re encouraged to play with them and walk with them. As John walks away with the second dog, I tell the handler that I think John looks good with a dog at his side.

3. We head into Bradford city centre for lunch and some charity shopping. It’s been a while since we’ve been there on foot – certainly the first time since we moved to a BD postcode, but probably a couple of years before that even. On the way up to Oxfam, we notice that the nature of the city starts to change after Duke St: the big-name chains gives way to smaller, independent shops, and it feels like a first time visit to a small town instead of a familiar city.

4. The sound check runs late so we have to eat quickly – it’s a shame to gobble such lovely food. The soup starts out neat and orderly, all the additional ingredients in their own part of the bowl and enjoyed individually, but as I eat, it all gets mixed together and a fuller flavour is revealed.

5. Kev writes my name in the condensation on the window and as the evening proceeds, the letters streak until all that is left are vertical drip lines down the pane. Above, the red light turns the dull gold window frame into a surreal ruby.

3BT – pate, cats, plunk-plink!, delights

1. The toast is evenly brown and perfectly crisp. The pate is strongly flavoured but delicious, and stirs in me the desire to make my own. I add it onto my “things to make” list.

2. Throughout the day, all the cats visit me at my desk. They sit on my knee between my body and the table, and purr as I stroke their soft-soft chests while I work.

3. The water plunks when it hits the growing body of water in the cup but plinks! (with an exclamation mark) when it hits the edge.

4. Katherine and I watch dogs parading (in Best in Show) and eat Jaffa cakes, while Joe murmurs over the baby monitor.

3BT – swimming smell, substitute, even better smell, pretty,

1. I lean on my fists in thought. The skin on my metacarpus is dry and smells faintly of chlorine. It reminds me of a year ago, when I swam three times a week – the shocking cold of the nearly empty pool, pushing myself to go forever faster, floating in my own world as the reward for my hard work, then the light, energised feeling of the walk home. I *must* start going again.

2. When life gives you lemons… I can’t face a journey along the icy slush to buy nice bread for lunch so just get a loaf of cheap sliced white from the nearby convenience shop instead. It’s too bland to eat on its own but perfect for toasties. Cheese, beans and tabasco – sizzling pockets of joy.

3. In the colourless, muffled world of snow, my other senses are enhanced to compensate. Standing at the bus stop opposite Kebabish is hell. I’m nearly drooling by the time the 670 arrives.

4. Returning from dinner with Katherine, I find there are pretty ice patterns on the inside of the porch windows. The first time I’ve ever seen that happen.

5. Boron cuddles close for warmth. With the duvet around him, he’s like the Cheshire Cat – just a head – but just two giant eyes instead of a smile. In the low light, they’re two black orbs surrounded by the thinnest lemon ring, with white flickering into momentary view as he looks around.

3BT – I saw it too, turn on/turn off, ice crystals

1. A squirrel appears on the fence just a foot away from Boron. He stares at it without moving and it stares back for a moment before escaping into the tree. Boron turns around to look at me – his eyes are shining with excitement and we share a blink.

2. I hear music and John’s laughter from the other room. He’s discovered these marvellous things: http://www.instructables.com/id/The-Most-Useless-Machine/.

3. Our neighbour, fresh back from Banff, Canada, tells us about what it was like to breath ice crystals.