Dressing the baby, dancers and technical fault.

1. The postman knocks -- he has a large but light parcel. It's a set of baby clothes, handknitted by Heather. So now I have something soft and warm to wrap my baby badger in. The little shoes make me want to cry.

2. I'm working upstairs in the early evening, and the window is open because the attic can be stuffy when the sun has been shining. I can hear the mechanical clack-clack clack-clack of a flamenco class in the TocH Hall.

3. All my biscuits fall through the wire cooling tray. "We need one with smaller holes," I tell Nick (who is proud that he has bought the finest baking equipment money can buy. He points out the bleeding obvious: "Next time, bake bigger biscuits."

The speaker, time and knitting.

1. I went to hear a writing friend read and speak in a short story discussion. The people in front of me caught her in the viewfinder of their camera again and again.

2. After an uncalculated saunter towards a train leaving at an uncertain time I walk into the station with ten minutes to spare.

3. Knitting with plastic bags is rather satisfying. I used the instructions at Atomic Shrimp to make the yarn, and then knitted it up on needles in the usual fashion. I'm not sure what I'll use the result for -- I'm aware of the irony of using about 100 plastic bags to make one shopping bag. I might go for a bag for carrying my water bottle.

Salad, knitting and in the dark.

1. Dressing a pasta salad so the pieces slip apart.

2. At the end of the evening, the waiter comes up and says: 'I just wanted to say well done. I think more people should do this sort of thing.' Having met on Ravelry, we have been nursing drinks in the corner, chatting while our knitting grows longer.

3. The night smells of flowers -- I can't place them though. It might be honeysuckle on the Common; or it might be night-scented stocks and tobacco plants in window boxes above us.

Clean sweep, dirty ears and click.

1. The basecamp is tidied much faster than we expect, so we leave early for the station.

2. A man teases his little girl: her ears are so dirty that he can see a giraffe and rhinos in there. When I was small, my mother said that there were carrots and potatoes growing behind mine.

3. Rosey says she likes the sound of my knitting needles.

Jiggery pokery, oatcakes and finished.

1. I like calling a tech support line and being taught a cunning trick -- ordinary buttons and switches can be made to do something magic if pressed in the right way.

2. An oatcake and honey.

3. Tying off the loose threads in my first typing glove. Can't wait to start work on the second one. It will be a lot better because I'll know what mistakes to avoid. It's made from Aragon Yarns, by the way.

Grinding, lost time and woolies.

1. Grinding allspice berries in a mortar and pestle.

2. I put the supper in at 4pm and go back to my writing. The next time I look up, it's 6.20pm; Katie will be back any minute and I really should have put the rice on fifteen minutes ago.

3. A large box full of balls of bright wool -- it's hard to explain what I like about this. I think it's the combination of colours, warmth and squdginess.

Away you go, winding and a spooky tale.

1. Sending 300 Beautiful Things off to the publisher.


2. My skein of hemp has tangled. But with some help from Katie, I follow the thread and wind it into a pleasing ball.


3. Sitting up in bed, a skein of yarn around my knees, listening to the shivery Book at Bedtime. It's Susan Hill's The Man in the Picture. I'm rather a fan of her ghost stories.