Waiting in the library, ice and dirty colours.

1. I have to wait in the library for a few minutes and find myself flittering among the shelves snapping pics of books that I might like to borrow but will probably forget about.

2. We are nearly fifteen and not far off fifty, but we still stop to crack an icy puddle in the park.

3. I am struck by how much I like the ink in the pen I'm using. It's a Stabilo fineliner 88/62 called grey violet, and honestly, these dirty colours -- the drabs, the greys, the kharkis and the ochres are underloved in a world of brights.

Snowfall, badger and hot chocolate.

1. I open the front door to take a parcel and am surprised by wet snow falling in rags and tufts.

2. A badger has given the edges of the paths in the park a working over, turning the soil and tearing up the grass in search of worms. It must be frustrating for the groundsmen; but I like knowing there's a badger or two about.

3. It's a cold, cold morning -- just right for serving hot chocolate.

Tea, words and supper.

1. The hot cup of tea waiting for me on the breakfast table.

2. My words aren't coming easily today, and I can't feel confident about anything I'm writing. But I try anyway. As long as I aim for clarity, stick to the sources and remember the reader, it will do. There will always be some days when good enough is good enough.

3. A bag of chips on the supper table.

Cold, sky and Leonids.

1. The weather has changed and the cold is like a smack in the face.

2. I stop on our hill to compare the sky with my astronomy app. End up marvelling and gossiping about celestial matters with my neighbour and a passer-by.

3. I glance up as I lift the bin and a shooting star falls down the southern sky.

Breakfast, drift and pour.

1. I start to say no because I've already eaten breakfast and I don't want the work of cooking French toast for everyone else -- but that's not what is being asked. 

2. Day off. I drift between a memoir and a historical novel and a needlework project, half listening to the children's priorities: space ship insurance, a Ralph Lauren hoodie on Vinted, that brand of cola, what one might wear for a funeral.

3. I pour us wine right up to the lozenges at the top of the cut glass pattern.

Novel, coming back and ready for December.

1. In the early hours, I'm awake, all alone -- but I've got a new novel on my library app: a fenland gothic Saxon mystery called Mere by Danielle Giles.

2. My book order is one short -- but that doesn't matter, because I can come in again next week to see what stories and volumes I fancy. 

3. Nick and I organise our work Christmas lunch. As a freelancer, I often feel a bit sorry for myself when I hear about other people going out for their work do. So this year, I did something about it; and now we're going out for a festive lunch in early December.

Volunteers, eleven and bright crayons.

1. Volunteers growing out of the yellow clay on the edge of the building site: a castor oil plant with spiked green seed pods; and a couple of tall maize stems.

2. Alone at eleven -- drinking coffee at my desk out of a much bigger mug than usual.

3. With really good bright crayons and no particular expectations, shading doodled shapes to get a fake three-dimensional look.