Adapting, treat and reincarnation.

1. Wrapping a wet tea towl round my neck and my office chair getting so hot that standing up is a joy. Also, Oli's successful mission not to complain about the heat all day.

2. Bosses who bring ice lollies.

3. Being told that good things are happening in this life because I've been generous in a past life. This is a lovely thought that underlines the idea that when you do good for other people you are doing good for yourself too.

Midsummer, feeding and cakes.

1. The shortest night and the longest day. I was up at Wellington Rocks with Anna, Paul and Jason. We couldn't see the sun through the mizzling clouds, but we had got up at 4am and were there observing the moment it came up, and that's what counts.

2. Food at The Junction Inn, Groombridge. All four lunchclub members were impressed by the quality -- although the portions were rather small. I had smoked eel with beetroot cream (Oli says that sounds like witch food, but it was delicious, and didn't taste of beetroot at all); Ed and Doug had wild mushroom risotto; and Johnny P got his face round a huge homemade burger. It had chips with it that were very good too -- I know this because I stole some.

3. Taking The Mother's homemade cakes to work. There were three -- one chocolate, one coffee and walnut and one lemon with homemade jam in the middle. There was a lot of stickiness in the office for most of the afternoon.

Temple of doom, the other side, whiter than grey and sideways while blowing bubbles.

1. Being rescued from a rabid Sikh man. We were waiting for George to have his starter motor fixed. A beardy man driving a 4x4 saw us and told Wayne that if we cared to come into his temple we could learn a little about Sikhism and have some lunch.

Too late -- having removed our shoes washed our hands, covered our heads and walked on our filthy feet across a pristine white prayer mat -- we realised we would be working for our lunch by listening to a 20-minute rant from a toothless and fervent man. He took in Revelations, Christianity, Reincarnation, Ancient Greece and the respect which Sikhs have for All Other Religions (apart from Hinduism). At the end, he asked if any of us had any questions.

‘Um,’ said Gill, who could see Anne, having bravely penetrated the organisation was waving at us from the back of the temple, ‘Our leader says we have to go now.’

‘Yes, but does anyone have any questions?’

‘We really do have to go -- there are people waiting for us,’ added Elaine.

We scrambled to our feet, and he tried to thwart us by getting the priest to give us sweets, but we retreated down the stairs, grabbed our shoes and ran. The 4x4 man was waiting by the gate, but numbers made us brave and all he could do was bellow: ‘It will take you FIVE minutes to eat lunch.’

2. Having said all that, I did like the paintings for Sikh gurus that decorate the temple, and the fanatical man did have a beatific, toothless grin. Also, I liked the priest, who seemed to hiding his face in a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

3. Washing clothes -- normally it sucks, but doing it in the African sun, when you know you don’t have to get your whites perfect, is OK.

4. Watching crabs on the beach. They were doing crabby things on the dry sand just above the tideline -- chasing each other, digging more sand out of their burrows and scuttling around. When I tried to get nearer they disappeared down their holes, but if I stayed still for a moment, they came out again.

Dar es Salaam

Closer to God, disorder and campaign.

A night spent in the shadow of Kilimanjaro

1. The tree under which people pray. In times of difficulty, the Chugga tribe don’t abandon their Christian faith, but they do move it out of church. Among the banana orchards there are a few giant and ancient trees that are used as outdoor churches when important prayers need to made. Our guide Roderick explained that it happened after 9/11 when tourists stopped climbing Kilimanjaro, leaving him and his colleagues with no work.

2. We came to the village church and heard children chanting inside. ‘Kindergarten,’ explained Roderick. As we passed the chanting broke down into: ‘Jambo jambo jambo!’ -- they had the advantage because we couldn’t see them through the narrow fretwork windows.

3. The headmaster of a school we visited. Rosey liked him because he remembered her name -- he has a daughter called Rose. Rosey continues: “He sat us down in front of him and asked for money for his school in a non-threatening way. He seemed very on-the-ball and intelligent. I liked the way he wanted the school to get better and knew how he was going to do it. He was very passionate about it.”

Marangu, Tanzania

Clearing up, spire and millrace.

1. I love days that start off so clammy and foggy you can hardly see your hand at the end of your arm that turn out clear and bright by noon.

2. When a green road running down between two fields suddenly opens out at a gate so you can see a church spire on a hilltop across the valley. I like especially opening my map and working out which village it's in.

3. Coming down a bridleway that got narrower and narrower I heard the sound of running water. At the bottom of the hill was a mill with the stream running under a road bridge into a round shady pond. I guess all those paths meeting and the water gave the place a bit of extra energy, because I felt very refreshed as I walked on down the lane.

Red hat, how does he do it and toasty.

1. Went to a Midsummer service at Brighton Unitarian Church. There were three chances for the congregation to go up and share something summery. One lady in a parrot print dress walked to the front and said: 'I've brought my hat. Well, it's not my hat. It's a family hat.' It was red straw with long green ribbons. She explained that one day her daughter, who is a bit of a worrier, was walking to school with a friend and fretting over the latest whatever it was. After a bit, the friend got tired of being worried at and said: 'Here, if you can't stop worrying, you'd better take my hat.'

2. A man playing the fiddle while walking on a tightrope.

3. I am a chilly mortal, and sleep really badly if I am too cold. I sleep year round rolled up in a winter duvet and wrapped in a shawl, but last night it was warm enough that I could sleep in just a sheet.

Blowing, quiet and beat.

1. The wind has changed and instead of cutting straight through you, it's warm and gusty. A puff of dead leaves and fallen flowers - about a dustpanful - is skittering up the pavement ahead of me, weaving and snaking round as if it were alive.

2. Sitting in silence at dusk. Far away, a peacock yelled. They seem so prideful and foolish close up, but from a long way off, they are so mournful that you wonder if they really are as stupid as all that.

3. We sat round a fire and drummed as it got dark. You could listen for a bit to what everyone else was doing and pick up whatever part of the rhythm you fancied.

Graveyard, lounge and bare.

1. Went to Bessels Green Unitarian Church to support some of the pagans who were leading the service there to mark Beltane. The church is very rather plain and very homely, and obviously very much loved. The paint is fresh and the whole place is immaculate - it's cleaned by someone who loves their job, I think. But best of all, the graveyard has been allowed to do its own thing - apart from the grass being cut. It is an ancient meadow, and there are herbs and flowers of all kinds growing among the grass - I counted at least six different kinds of grass.

2. A big fat Sunday paper and a pot of coffee.

3. Walking out of the house for the first time with no coat or jumper. It's my favourite thing about May.

Flow, smooch and reflection.

1. I had a session of reiki, which I've never done before. It's all about helping energy flow through you, and I felt a lot lighter on my feet afterwards.

2. Rodin's The Kiss - how did he make chilly white marble resemble something so soft and human?

3. Mirror mazes, because they make it possible to get disorientated and lost in a small room. The London Dungeon features a splendid one, with the added attraction of cage rattling skeletons and a costumed guide leaping out and shouting at you.

Sugar, light and greetings.

1. The smell of praline at the French market in the Pantiles.

2. As our fire caught, its light picked out bright red yew berries on the branches above us.

3. Holding a blođ to mark Samhain. Three drinking horns went round and round the circle. We toasted absent friends, our ancesters and those who have gone on before. As the horns emptied, they were filled again and again - with honeyed beer, mead and cider.

Naked garden, dancing lantern and sight.

1. A strange rubrus with fine, tangled dark green stems studded with tiny, pearly white thorns. In an autumn garden, stems are very important.

2. Physallis growing at Sissinghurst. These are the 'Chinese lanterns' that every other restaurant is dressing pudding plates with these days. The brown papery shell hides a yellowish berry that just tastes sour. However, in the garden, the lanterns are bright, beautiful orange.

3. Learning to see my aura.

Fear, glossy and cheferie.

1. This is the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear from Frank Herbert's Dune.

'I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.'

2. Conkers in my pocket.

3. Toad in the hole. It's made of things that look unappetising raw (batter and sausages) but once it's baked, it is a thing of beauty.

Dogs, infants and music.

1. A neat little greyhound with a cheeky curl in its tail.

2. A baby with a huge head, big round eyes and her bottom lip sucked under her top lip leaning right forward in her pushchair and concentrating really hard on something.

3. At sunset we went to the fieldy bit of Dunorlan Park, as far from houses as you can be, with four drums, two tin whistles, a guitar and a mandolin. We bickered about what to play. We disagreed about the version of the tune. We tried starting with the drums and we tried starting with the tune. But suddenly, as the stars came out, the sounds fell into place and we played together.

Nursery, Romans and pink.

1. On Saturday, Rob gave me some sickly basil plants to nurse. I have had to rearrange the entire flat to give them a decent amount of sun. They seem a little less yellow, I'm sure of it. And there is a definite smell of basil about the place.

2. The Course of Honour by Lindsey Davis. It's a love story set in ancient Rome involving a feisty slave girl - Caenis - and a nobleman who eventually becomes the emperor Vespasian. One moment we're rejoicing in late afternoon liaisons, letters and wine, and the next, Caenis is living alone in a filthy tenement and being harassed by a pasty schoolmaster. Lindsey Davis is hot on the little details make historicals come alive, and she's definitely got a knack for luuuurve that makes your heart beat faster. I've got a weakness for novels about interesting rather than beautiful women who claim in chapter one that they're not interested in romance, but by chapter three have fallen into the arms of an unconventional man. I feel so exploited.

3. Drinking rose wine with Lou and Nicky to celebrate the half moon.

Old friend, come home and miz-maz.

1. Marie, a uni friend from up north who I haven't seen for nearly two years, phones me out of the blue. We have lunch together.

2. The feeling of relief when my books are returned to me.

3. Lou has asked me for Cretan maze instructions. I find that drawing up a step-by-step page improves my own understanding.

Lost, ocean and lollies.

1. Walking a 20ft maze drawn in the sand.

2. Swimming in the sea on a hot day.

3. Mr Men ice lollies - small, cheap, tasty and free from artificial colourings, they are as welcome today as they were when I was at school.

Baby powder, peas and meditation.

1. Johnson's baby powder.

2. Fresh peas in their pods bought from the Farmers' Market.

3. When I meditate my body goes heavy and light at the same time. Then I seem to forget I have a body at all.