Baby tip, historic homes and what I liked.

1. A lovely comment from Julia on this post about my beautician's take on night feeding. I can't wait to tell her that her thought has touched someone else as well as me!

2. We watch a historical documentary, At Home With The Georgians, in which Professor Amanda Vickery describes the origins of good taste and home-making using diaries and letters. One of the voices was particularly touching: a gauche bachelor of 24, writing in code, who was worried that his nerves would make him unable to get his future wife (he didn't marry until he was 43) pregnant.

3. Last thing at night, as we are falling asleep, we talk about our day: "I liked helping you with the dusting." "I liked the mashed swede." "I liked your sausage casserole." "I liked..."

The contract, wonder wire and the manuscript.

1. I always dread the day I've got to alter my phone contract. I try to research what I want, but the website makes my head spin. Then I grit my teeth and make the call. It's easier than I think, and I feel better afterwards.

2. Man on Wire is the story of the man who walked on a high wire between the World Trade Centre towers in 1974. It re-unites the team who pulled off the stunt for an emotional account of an act of wonder. Philippe Petit describes how he first saw a picture of the yet-to-be built towers in a magazine in a dentist's waiting room. He pretended to sneeze so that he could tear out the page without anyone noticing -- and yet he went on to rebel against authority by stringing wires without permission between the high places of public landmarks.

3. Last thing at night, I settle down in bed with The Manuscript Found in Saragossa. It's a tale of ghosts, Gypsies and mystery religions set in Spain. It reminds me in parts of Jonathan Strange; and in parts of Italo Calvino.

After the rain, needles and thread.

1. It's warm, and it's been raining. The wet world is full of slippery wonders and unusual sights. The ground steams; slugs wave their horns; grass seeds look sorry for themselves.

2. A new packet of needles. I think about the bone and wooden needles used in the Stone Age, and how hard it must have been to make them; and how easy it is for me to buy a packet -- and how cheap they are. That makes me think of Adam Smith's essay about division of labour; which reminds me how much can be achieved by co-operation.

3. Katie has turned up a cross-stitch kit that she doesn't have time for. It is scented, apparently -- what wonderous times we live in.

Narrow guage, over the fence and history lesson.

1. The Romney Hythe and Dymchurch Railway is so narrow that you could only just drop a foot ruler between the tracks.

2. The line between Romney Sands and Dungeness runs between two rows of houses. Heads (an aristocratic greyhound, a sun-red man with tattoos and medallions, a small and friendly hoodie with his mother) pop over back fences to see us go past.

3. I talk with an ATS re-enactor and she explains some of the things my grandmother talks about -- the hat band over the top; and the mysterious bootlace hairstyle. We learn from a Desert Rat that the men were allowed two pints of water a day (for everything) and used petrol to wash as it was more widely available. The Desert Rat tells a passing boy re-enactor 'You've got yer belt on upside down. You'd be on a charge for that.' The boy disappears into a tent to sort himself out.

4. The whole reason we have come down here is to see a replica of the armoured train that patrolled the railway during world war two. It stands in a siding, a sad grey plywood shell. But once I've seen some pictures of the original, I can imagine how satisfying it would have been to patrol up and down, ready to defend against the German invasion.

5. I liked seeing the father and two toddlers who sat in the next compartment tumble out at the end of the line to meet mum, pushchair and terrier.

Family album, white flowers and love letter.

1. In a dark landing at Plas Newydd there is a row of seven chalk drawings of seven of the First Marquess of Anglesey's 18 children. They are dated 1823 (the children are in their late teens and early 20s). The pictures capture the texture of their skin and the shine on their noses.

2. We come out from under the dark, heavy leaves and the waxy red and sticky purple flowers of the rhododendron garden, into a clearing where sunlight picks out a slender waist-high bush dotted with neat white blossoms.

3. My aunt calls me over to read a love letter written by the artist to his patron's daughter. He begs her not to throw him over: 'You're such a chucker. You're the chucker queen.' Later, when I have moved into the next room, I hear other people reading the letter aloud to each other.

Pillow book, breathing space and rewards of virtue.

1. All day I have to hand The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon. It is a collection of lists and notes about life as lady-in-waiting in 10th century Japan. She still seems so alive a thousand years later.

2. It is a day with plenty of space between each happening.

3. I am annoyed at having to unpick so many stitches -- again -- but I feel better for doing it, knowing that later on I needn't fudge the pattern to make it fit.

Wise words, soldiering on and what might have been.

1. A mother on the phone comforts a distraught daughter: 'I know, I know... but you've got to learn to bite your tongue... When people are in the wrong... When people are in the wrong and they know it, they'll defend themselves to the... Well the drink doesn't help.'

2. I am drawn again to the bright colours of tiny Chinese street scenes at the toy soldier show. I also liked the Ancient Egyptian set, complete with a painter at work on a sarcophagus. On another stall, there are Aztec warriors who, though dressed to kill as wild beasts, are about to find out that they have brought obsidian-studded clubs to a gun- and crossbow fight.

3. The Cold War Modern exhibition shares a future that might have been, overlaying a future that was. In this world, houses are machines for living. People dress in Captain Scarlet tunics and catsuits, but the spacesuits have lace-up boots. An technology fair, housed in a geodesic dome, is hosted by Afghanistan, and the USA and the USSR compete to produce the best washing machine.

Top of the world, falling ice and fallen fort.

1. I tell Nick that there are two steeplejacks on the church -- but as I don't have my glasses on, he tells me not to be so silly. Later, he puts his glasses on and sees for himself. Much, much later, we visit the church and he chats to them. One steeplejack is feeling very pleased with himself because he's picked the sheltered side of the tower on a day of driving rain and hail. He says that the church will stay up for another 125 years. They are about to set out to the chippie for something hot, but the another shower sends them back to their van. (Picture by Nick).

2. The waiters pause to look out of the window at the sky tipping hail on to the outside tables.

3. We overheard people at dinner talking about a Roman fort. We find it on the map not far from the village and set out to look. Low walls mark the lines of the buildings. Sheep step in the sodden grass where soldiers homesick for other parts of the empire might have walked.

Advert, potato and a sound.

1. In a street I have passed many times, I spot a worn painted advert on the side of a Victorian house.

2. A baked potato with butter melting into it.

3. The sound of water dripping from the just-used shower on to the curtain makes me think of being covered with kisses.

First light, breakfast, adding to a tradition, stay off the carpet and dinner.

1. We open the curtains on our top floor room to a warship coming into the harbour. This makes Nick's day before it has even begun. Coming downstairs and seeing out the view out of the hotel's back windows for the first time, we spot furtive-looking tunnels cut into the chalk high above us.

2. Our breakfast comes on loaded plates, attention-to-detail evident in the perfect egg yolks and the gently browned mushrooms.

3. The stairs to the castle have a rail plastered with discarded visitor stickers. Later we plan to add our own.

4. In the keep's main hall, a sign warns that no-one should tread on the carpet before the king's throne. A girl tugs her grandmother's hand and says very quietly 'Shall we go on the rug?' When they do, a stern recorded voice admonishes them 'What are you doing on that carpet?'. The little girl is thrilled and tries again: 'Stay off the King's carpet.'

5. Crackling -- faintly fennel-flavoured -- on slow-roast pork. And a neat line of roasted winter vegetables. We really struck lucky for dinner at the Hubert House Bistro, which we choose almost at random because we liked the look of it.

Specks, hairy beast and ice ships.

Hen over at Domestic Hiss has given me a You Make My Day Award. I'm passing it on Rosey (see below for why).

1. Days when its sunny and tiny bits of lime tree flowers are flying around catching the light.

2. My birthday present arrives -- Rosey has commissioned a picture from The Daily Mammal -- a warthog to remind us of our trip to Africa. I'm so pleased and proud to own one of Jennifer's original pieces. Her 14-year plan to draw all the 5,000 (give or take) mammal species is an endeavour that I admire very much.

3. Nick has a small stack of military history magazines to pass on to Andy. 'Look, there are two articles on pykrete,' says Nick, surprised that such an obscure and wonderful subject could come up in two different magazines dated a decade apart. When Andy arrives, we proudly tell him about Habakkuk, the proposed aircraft carrier made of pykrete -- a mixture of ice and sawdust. I imagine that ships and islands of ice dot the oceans in the same reality where airship is the only civilised way to travel long distances.

Mudlarks, flint and rust.

Nick took me to The National History Show.

1. The Mudlarks, who spend their weekends digging around in the mud on the Thames foreshore looking for coins, buckles, musket balls, Medieval tiles, pieces of jug, tin toys, medals, tokens, bottles and anything else preserved in the oxygen-starved mud of London's mother river. One of them talked about giving his son a jar of ashes from the Fire of the London (1666) to take to school.

2. Seeing Phil Harding from Time Team talking about flint knapping. He had to show us a video, rather than actually demonstrating -- because of the demons Health and Safety. He talked about spending night after night practising the techniques, and about what a magical material flint is. You can see him at work here.

3. I tell Nick that the vintage Jeep smells like my grandfathers old Land Rover. It's petrol and oil and rust and webbing and leather.

Getting there, a ride and faces of dog.

1. I am still very much a learner with Adobe Go Live, and even changing the colour of a table cell is an achievement.

2. When I am running late, getting a lift.

3. We watch a documentary about the Medieval mind and the problems thrown up by the dog-faced people who were rumoured to live in the blank parts of the map. Should they be preached to, or not. And once explorers got to the blank parts of the map, the residents said they thought the dog-faces lived in Europe.

Congregation, coloured glass and dress circle.

Nick and I spent yesterday visiting buildings in the Heritage Open Day.

1. Reading that St Augustine's church was once described as a 'tent' and that it helps worshippers recall the nomadic roots of their religion. It's a low modern building laid out in a square -- the congregation must feel very involved with the services. Nick thought its high rafters made it like a Medieval hall. The guide who greeted us said that when the church was first opened in 1974, she didn't get on very well with the modern architecture, but it has grown on her.

2. The stained glass window at the back of the stage in Trinity Arts Centre. Trinity is a converted church and the window is normally hidden by a curtain.

3. Going upstairs in the Opera House. It's been a pub since I moved to Tunbridge Wells. Before that, it was a bingo hall, and before that a cinema, and before it was a theatre. The dress circle has recently restored red tip-up seats. But I didn't know there was an upper circle, too, which hasn't been used since the last film in 1968. The seats look rather hard and uncomfortable, and it is strange to think that no-one has sat in them since before I was born. It was very grimy, very eerie, with toilets full of dust and stacks of unwanted doors and old furniture lying around. I was so glad of the chance to go behind the scenes in this familiar place.

Quiet man, kit and time travellers.

As described on Heropress, we spent the day at Military Odyssey.

1. Among all the guns and pikes and fighting, a neolithic man sits in front of a deer hide tent knapping flints. We chat about his cordage -- nettle stem, rawhide and tendon -- and about tanning. He explained that his soft leather shirt and trousers were yellowish because they had been smoked to keep them supple.

2. A War of the Roses pikeman shows me the weight of his gear by piling it up in my arms. It's heavy, and I'm glad I'm not wearing the padded coat, wool tabard, helmet and armour on this sunny day. He explains that he's not a full 'tinny', and that once the armour is on, it doesn't feel heavy.

3. Two women dressed as Scythians trying on World War II great coats.

Knights, goths and kisses.

1. Coming down into the field at Hever Castle and seeing medieval pavilions and flags waiting for the jousting to begin. It looked as if a page had fallen out of a King Arthur book. Further down the hill four white horses with long curly manes were waiting patiently, and the knights and the squires were drinking tea.

2. Four goths reaching the centre of Hever Castle Maze. 'Get a picture of Squeaky,' said the... the... uh one in dark black. Squeaky was a large black rubber rat. They set him on the plinth in the centre and photographed him on their phones.

4. We set Fenella a series of hen night challenges -- kiss a man with a moustache; get marriage tips from a divorced guy; kiss 15 men on the cheek leaving lipstick marks on them; find a man wearing white socks and kiss him. But the best one was watching her sitting on the knee of a poor boy out celebrating his 21st birthday, flirting with him until he bought her a drink. Oh, and the look of fear on the waiter's face as we asked him if he was wearing white socks. I enjoyed watching how people reacted to us -- a couple trying to enjoy a quiet dinner which had been interrupted by the 15 kiss mission watched the girls' progress round the room with big grins on their faces. And every time a new challenge came up, the 21st birthday boys perked up. Girlfriends were generously tolerant about allowing their dates to accept kisses from the bride-to-be.

Falling water, quiet roads and way through the woods.

1. Sitting in the sun listening to the sound of a fountain.

2. Driving home along A-roads. We went through Dorking and Reigate, which both have high streets that are a jumble of chain stores and independent shops. And we passed a cricket match being watched by families whose children were paddling in a stream. We saw a carving made from a dead tree; and a quote from that mysterious poem about the traveller by Walter de La Mare.

3. A walk that goes across the old railway line. I always feel a bit strange crossing it -- it shows how quickly nature reclaims things because unless you look carefully and spot things in the woods like a few bits of railway stone, and a couple of railway sleeper fence posts, you'd never know that a railway ran through these fields.

Cooling, lunch and follow the numbers.

1. The temperature has dropped after a few days of heat.

2. An enormous plateful of lamb chops almost hidden by a garden of salad.

3. Novels with lots of distracting footnotes. I'm reading Mr Norrell and Jonathan Strange. The narrator (so far it's not clear who they are) is rather scholarly and every so often will stop to enlarge on something mentioned in passing. The book is set in an unfamiliar Victorian England where magicians used to have fairy servants but now no longer do magic, so there's a fair bit to explain.

The island, meeting up and fireworks.

1.We toured Robben Island. This is the prison where they held Nelson Mandela. Our guide had spent seven years on the island for sabotage during the 1980s. He wasn’t exactly bitter about what had happened -- more puzzled, I think, that the authorities could think that black prisoners didn’t need underwear, and that they should be given a different diet to white prisoners.

2. Seeing Debbie. She is our designer at work. We e-mail nearly every day, but I’ve only met her once. It’s good to catch up and talk about how we work (very briefly) before going on to more serious matters like what we are going to eat and where we are going to watch the fireworks.

3. Darren liked ‘fireworks like shooting stars. They would die, and then bang, went off again over the water.’

Cape Town, South Africa

Nature walk, too hot and satellites.

1. Our guide was called Skokie -- Afrikaans for ‘Fright’. He had a fine set of dreads under his woolly hat. He told us about the time he was bitten by a scorpion and by a snake. He showed us bushman rock art and bushes that cure coughs and dandruff. We saw where a leopard had killed a porcupine and a dassie toilet. I’ve often seen the white stains on cliffs where their wee runs down, but he made us climb up and look inside to see a 4ft high mass of a substance like hard black tar. ‘Dassie period,’ he explained. ‘My grandfather tell me that it is urine, but at school me and some other boys found out more. Dassie is the only animal I know that have period like a woman.’ He said that his people chip bits off the mass and use it to make a tea (which looks like Coke and smells bad) for treating kidney problems.

2. The heat on the mountain was incredible and by 1pm we’d all had enough. The relief of getting back to the lodge was marvellous. We sat in the lounge gulping down iced roibos and enjoying not feeling the sun beating down on our heads.

3. Lying on the lawn watching a huge satellite go overhead. We’ve seen them as little tiny dots of light moving among the stars. This one appeared well before the stars came out. It looked like a planet and arced slowly across the sky.

Citrusdal to Stellenbosh, South Africa