No coat, everybody out and baked potato.

The Three Beautiful Things podcast is up -- with some bonus springtime items.

I've been getting some really lovely comments lately -- I very much enjoyed yesterday's crop, particularly Daisy May's own list of beautiful things, and Louisa's description of spring round her way. Never underestimate the power of a kind word about 3BT to make my day!

1. To go out in the first days of spring wearing a coat, and find myself damp and overheated when I get home. The second time I go out, I leave the coat behind. I am serious and workmanlike on the outside, but inside I'm whooping with joy.

2. It's so good to see people strolling around -- we are coming out now the weather is warmer. One man in a sky blue jumper looks a bit dazed, as if he'd forgotten over winter how much world there was. I see him pause at the top of the road and examine the pole of a traffic sign.

3. To cut through the crisp skin of a baked potato -- the hot insides are soft and creamy and savoury.

Tiny diaries, art workshop and layers.

1. I don't know if you spotted the comment on Monday's post from the charming Elspeth Thompson who lives in an eco railway carriage by the sea. She mentioned 3BT in the journaling section of The Wonderful Weekend Book. As a result, one of her readers, Mousey Brown, took up the practice on paper (candy-coloured journals from Moleskine to be exact). In this post, Mousey Brown talks about her tiny diaries.

2. I am doing an interview at Trinity when people who have just finished an art workshop come out of the gallery. They are all carrying bright drawings on chickens done on black paper. My interview subjects scatter to admire the work: "That one's really strutting, isn't he." One of the artists crows like a rooster.

3. I finish for the day at 7.30pm. A bite of supper then a shower. After that, we pack ourselves into bed -- bundled in layers of pyjamas and with a hotwater bottle pushed between the cold sheets.

I got the words, Anna and end of the week.

1. I like to send off a completed piece of work -- editing work for a man who does not speak English so well, but writes with amazing clarity about a complex subject. I feel satisfied about that -- I hope my skills have given him the confidence to forge ahead in his career.

2. Writing this blog has brought me so many good things, including a lot of new friends. Pretty high on the list of these would be Anna. We go out to press jolly lunch and do some catching up.

3. I send in my two articles for the week, and for the first time in months, I get that feeling that shouts: "FRIIIIDAAAAAY".

Going, a promise and page layout.

1. Just as I am waking up, my brother comes up to my room to say goodbye.

2. I have promised myself a train journey, a coffee, a couple of trashy magazines and a good long read of Ursula Le Guin's Planet of Exile. As the day's plans whirl round the breakfast table, I'm not sure if I can keep that promise to myself. But luckily, the car is too full, so I can't have a lift home -- instead I get a trip to the station with my aunt and a clean train journey.

3. I come home to a message from the people at Longbarn -- what do I think of these page designs for the Three Beautiful Things book?

Hallo Joe, looking out and birthday treat.

1. Passing a garden gate, I see one of my favourite bloggers at work. We chat about 3BTing, and Joe speaks in praise of the notebook as an antidote to that uncomfortable feeling I get at about 3pm when I realise that I have missed something wonderful off the day's entry.

2. Clean pink roses pushing over a garden wall look like children's faces crammed against a classroom window to see an excitement outside. I imagine their teacher and the gardener both trying to persuade them to turn their attention back in.

3. There's no-one at home to tell me not to open my birthday cards before the actual day -- present have to wait, of course. And later, Nick brings the tea tray in with a few more cards.

Self-respect, clack and runner.

1. I work back over Three Beautiful Things to find suitable entries for the book. Looking at 2004 I feel as if I am reading someone else's words and I find myself able to think of my own work: 'This is all right.'

2. A mysterious clacking noise in the sitting room turns out to be a contented Nick playing shut-the-box.

3. Spotting a photo of Andy finishing the London Marathon.

Fixing a hole, sacred dog and running repairs.

1. A builder has come and made an investigative hole in my ceiling to check out a leak in the roof. It is scary -- a Victorian football and some old wallpaper had been stashed up there; and there are two mysterious cardboard boxes visible off to the left -- but it's giving me the feeling of a story idea. Something about a baby climbing up to the ceiling on a stairway made from the shadows of books. Or maybe an arm reaching down into the room and having a good... feel... about. Katie? Katie? Can I come and sleep in your bed?

2. Finding The Gift of the Sacred Dog, one of my favourite children's books, on this blog. I loved this book for its wonderful colours.

3. I am working (slowly) through the Roll of Honour, updating it and pruning out dead links. I am amazed and touched to see so many current 3BTs. There are some abandoned blogs still clinging on, gradually disintegrating as pictures are deleted and browser versions move on. I discover the travails of Jeff in China who, as far as I can tell from Babelfish, had access to various 3BT accounts shut off by his government. I find people who previously described dark times now enjoying an easier life. Babies have appeared in some blogs, while other have suffered a loss. Anyway -- thanks to all of you for keeping on the path. Hope it's changed your lives for the better.

Special mention to Sprite Writes, Life Aint That Bad, More Beautiful Things and of course Now's the Time.

Baby talk, degrees of separation and moves.

1. Ellie sitting in the washing basket laughing at her rattle appearing and disappearing. And also laughing when we were pretending to be Godzilla and Mothra smashing a Manhatten made of wooden blocks. And Cat reading a story about mouse and giraffe who are in love. And Ellie conducting for her father while he played the piano.

2. Cat's mother mentioned me and Sgt Dub in a talk at her Unitarian church this Sunday. She used us as an example of how people can lead very different lives in far flung parts of the world yet still affect each other.

3. A salsa class that gave me tonnes more confidence.

Challenge, TV and domestic bliss.

You Saga readers are a lovely lot -- thank you so much for the kind emails.

1. A dusting of snow makes my walk to work totally different -- stretches of pavement that I stride over confidently on a normal day must be checked for ice before I can cross them. Details that usually fade into the background are picked out with a dusting of white.

2. Coming home in time for The Simpsons. I love watching the opening sequence knowing that I have raced hom just like they are.

3. We are having the neighbours round for drinks later. Katie had the afternoon off work and has hidden away clutter and made the sitting room look warm and inviting.

Celebration, dogcart and legend.

The comments and emails are still pouring in -- thank you so much, everyone, especially those who are trying it for themselves, and those who have asked incisive questions about what I am trying to achieve. I read every single one, and I'm trying to check out all your blogs and reply to your questions, but it may take some time for me to respond. I am totally bowled over by the number of notes, and the compliments have put a big glowy smile on my face. To all those who ask if it's OK to link to 3BT, go ahead, no need to ask!

1. Being made a Blog of Note (thank you, oh Gods of Blogger) and using it as an excuse to buy pink Champagne and ring my parents very early in the morning.

2. Walking round the French Market on the Pantiles I spot a very large dog hitched to a little wooden shopping cart. A small crowd has gathered round to admire this arrangement.

3. There is a new Robin Hood series on BBC 1. I like Robin Hood because it is so very English, and because it involves lots of cheeky verbal jousting with the Norman invaders, daring rescues and some fancy arrow work. And this one features a very dishy Dominic Green.

Words, summoning and green skirt.

1. The comments and emails I get about 3BT usually brighten my morning routine and often change the way I think about the day. Cheers everyone.

2. Sunday morning text messages that are a call to brunch.

3. My green skirt. The end has come for this beloved garment: the tatter on the left hip where my bag rubs, has grown so large as to be indecent, and summer is over, so it's time for our ways to part. I love green as a base colour for summer, so I always have a green skirt or two. This has been one of my favourites: soft linen is a pleasure to wear and easy to care for; the generous cut makes it easy to move in; the shade of green is pretty and easy to match. If you hear the last post at the recycling centre, you'll know why.

Fire, praise and help.

He-who-shall-not-be-named was moved to make a film of this post.

1. A flurry of afternoon excitement caused by a fire in the bins at work. The fire marshalls let off the fire extinguisher at it, and poured lots of water in. Bet the bin men are going to love us.

2. Getting a sweet note from a lady who has used 3BT to do her travel diary. She said: 'As a life-long optimist and positive-thinking person, I find that focusing on precisely three things is an exercise in discernment.'

3. Being told I've cheered someone up.

Fight, snack and watermelon.

1. Rose and Robert arguing over who has been mentioned in Three Beautiful Things the most. They have decided that the first one to be all three things for a day is the winner.

2. A bowl of salted nuts.

3. The different greens on a watermelon rind.

Portrait, morning head and class.

1. Ever since I saw a tutorial for Julian Opie-style pictures on Family Portrait Artists I have wanted to make one. And now I have, and I like it. I used a picture that PaulV took as the basis and played with Photoshop until I got it right.

2. A distracted mother unloading a carful of children while trying to put her daughter's school straw hat on her son's head.

3. I was very apprehensive about joining a new yoga class -- it's hard to twist yourself into odd positions in front of a crowd of strangers, and I really wanted to like this class because it's nearby and at a time I can manage. The group was so smiley and the teacher was so friendly that I felt at home.

4. I get an extra beautiful thing today because it's the second anniversary of this blog. I'm glad I've kept it going -- I know I'm happier for working on it, and I hope you are all happier for reading it. The extra bonus beautiful thing (and this is going to sound really sucky) is my readers. Thanks specially to those of you who join in. I love your comments and your beautiful things. And thanks also to those who keep quiet -- don't think I know you're there! That's what hit counters and stats are for.

Rocks, farewell, country, beautiful things, poison and medical care.

1. The shattered mountains and jaggy ridges on the way from Citrusdal to Stellenbosh.

2. The owner of Citrusdal saying goodbye to us. He told Anne that we were a lovely group.

3. Darren’s county faces. You can name an English county and he will have a face for it. Pictured are Cornwall and Buckinghamshire.

4. For our first farewell dinner, Elaine had the idea of going round the table with each person saying what their beautiful thing for the trip was.

5. Cream soda in Stellenbosh is bright green. We drank it with cane -- the local rum. This is called a green mamba.

6. I have broken my face. Rosey says I toppled forward and didn’t even put my hands out to stop myself, so the edge of the pool terrace did for me. It didn’t hurt a bit, and it made me giggle. My first inkling that something serious had happened was when Claire said she had been cut ‘just as badly and now you can’t even see my scar’ but refusing to let me see -- or touch -- my face. It was that and the blood on Darren and Craig. I pretended I needed a wee and went and had a look anyway. There were two gaping cuts, one right on the bridge of my nose and the other running under my left eye, and it still seemed funny.

Gill and Claire cleaned me up while Craig held my hand. Anne was woken up and she drove me, Rosey, Wayne, Claire and Gill and a random hostel employee who happened to be passing to the medical centre.

All the way Rosey kept saying: ‘Stop laughing. Stop laughing now.’ That made me laugh more.

The emergency room people were so kind and said they didn’t mind a bit having a herd of drunken overlanders running about. They refused to sew me up and made me wait overnight for the plastic surgeon: ‘You’re a beautiful girl and it’s not worth risking your face,’ the nurse said.

Claire, who is an NHSer at home, went and got more information. ‘The nurses say he’s very good, and I think he’s a bit of a dish.’ Which, really, is all you need to know when choosing a surgeon.

‘You could have seen him right away if you’d done this at 9.30 tomorrow morning,’ said the doctor.

‘I’d never have fallen over drunk at 9.00 on Monday morning,’ I shot back. Actually, it probably came out as ‘Tee hee hee hee ver ver drunk.’

Anne had not been able to wait, as the hostel man needed to go back and see the police -- we’d been burgled earlier in the evening. So the medical centre director told one of the nurses to drive the gang back to the hostel.

Stellenbosh, South Africa

So unfair, overhead and white feathers.

1. Robert sulking because he wasn't a beautiful thing yesterday, unlike Rose.

2.Sun in the tree tops.

3. In the middle of supper it started snowing.

Home, root and lick.

1. Getting my very own domain -- the official address of this blog is now http://threebeautifulthings.co.uk so why not bookmark it?

2. Peeling fresh ginger root. I like the way the skin comes off easily under the knife, and the smell.

3. Sticking down the envelope of a chatty letter to a friend.

Music, Googling and tidy.

1. I'm going to the Isle of Wight Festival. Caroline texted me yesterday and asked if I would join her and Ian as they had room in their car and a spare tent. I said 'Yes' without even thinking.

2. Giggling for ten minutes after discovering that someone came on to this site on a Google search for 'force fed cock'. NB - don't run this search - I have already done it in The Interests of Science and the results are frankly disgusting.

3. A freshly made bed, when the duvet is smooth and the pillows conceal my nightie, blanket and the piles of books I sleep with.

Hols, making it and hush.

1. Taking a rest day to let the antibiotics work is a bit like being on holiday - you don't have to do anything you don't fancy and you can spend hours reading any book you like.

2. Finding an email from The Write Coach, Bekki Hill, saying that she is using the idea of 3BT for an exercise (titled It's a kind of magic) in her new Creativity Gym - which is 10,000 times more enticing than the sweaty sort of gym. I am unbelieveably flattered to have my idea picked up by a pro! Stroll (being careful not to exert yourself) down to Bekki's and give some of her exercises a go. Creating each day makes you happy.

3. The silence after a late-night alarm has finished going off.

Reader, march and grill.

1. Being told off by Chris downstairs for not blogging fast enough.

2. Two little girls reading as they followed their mother down the colonade in front of our Greek temple-style branch of Habitat.

3. Pushing bits of garlic and rosemary into lamb steaks so that the flavours infuse the meat while it cooks.