Posts

Maybe buying, plank and duvet.

1. After dropping off a donation, we run our eyes along the rails and shelves, wondering if we want to fill the space we've just made. 2. I still marvel to see her casually holding a plank position while watching videos -- she's up to four minutes now. 3. We put our duvet aside weeks ago in the heat. Suddenly this night I want its insulation and weight, so I drag it out and get under it.

Thanking the bus driver, games night and great bear.

1. There's a dad a few rows back telling his toddler that they need to thank the bus driver. He says, 'I'll do it first, shall I, and then you can copy me.' 2. Sling some dice, borrow a cocktail dress from the wife of the governor of Bermuda, get shipwrecked, fight some dinosaurs. 3. Ursa Major tumbles tail over head scattering stars in the sky gap down our street.

Treasure, through the woods and back again.

1. She has aquilegia seeds, gleaming black like obsidian grains, in a pink striped paper bag. 2. I remember I have a choice, and walk back through the woods. 3. It's been a while. Netflix has changed its layout, and we need to recap the previous episode. Between us, we have enough to get along with.

Poplar, patience and caterpillars.

1. Waking early, see the poplar leaves fluttering green and silver in the unsettled air. 2. There is a lot of patience and persistence going on as Uncle Yog takes Bettany climbing. Her exercise routines have paid back in terms of strength and flexibility and confidence.  3. Black caterpillars the size of em-rules waving and undulating as they free themselves from swathes of webbing on a nettle stem.

Baking, inexorable and finishing up.

1. From the scent of lemons and the questions about flour, I deduce that he's baking madeleines. 2. It's a warm, warm evening; there's dry dust underfoot, and the brambles and bracken are shoulder high and at their summer finest -- but the rowan berries are already less green and more orange. 3. Directly behind me, the sun is falling through the western sky. Its light has bounced off a window on the  far side of the High Street, struck a broken glass in the gutter on Castle Street and then, at the very end of its journey, dazzled me for a moment.

Wordcount, sculpture and art is accumulating.

1. I'm writing a huge website -- to see my word count going up hour by hour. 2. He keeps appearing with wire and plasticine and questions. 3. End of term: art is accumulating. While we listen to the Folk Show, I get up a ladder and stick it on the wall.

Side shoots, dot and change in temperature.

1. No matter what, there are always a few tomato side shoots that need pinching out. 2. She's on a school trip. From time to time, I check the family app to see where her dot is. 3. We've appreciated the cooler mornings, even with the gusty disruptive breeze pushing at the blinds -- but the afternoon air heavy and still and warm like bathwater is welcome too.