End of term, unboxing and send.

1. Bettany's dance teacher is wearing pink sparkly bunny ears.

2. The children's excitement at the unboxing of the enormous red hamper we have won in the PTA's raffle.

3. Hitting send on an application.

Fog, buzz and rollers.

1. A strange yellowish fog has settled over us during the night. It turns the view from the window into something extraordinary -- but I don't have time to get bored of looking at it today.

2. There's a bit of a buzz in the family WhatsApp group: a photo of my niece has appeared on CBeebies this morning. 

3. Bettany with rollers in her hair watches the apprentice.

Ready for summer, no waiting and not raining.

1. First thing I go outside to brush the mud off Bettany's shoes and my gaze falls on the blank surfaces of the pots I planted up earlier in the week with summer bulbs.

2. There are plenty of people clustered around the bus stop, which suggests I won't be waiting long.

3. Of course the rain has stopped by the time I rush out of the house in my waterproofs and wellies -- but at least it's not an uncomfortable, cold, dripping outing.

About last night, cutting and practice.

1. The pictures and stories from last night's party start to come in and bring a lot of pleasure to us with our hangovers.

2. Because of the price of meat, we've had to cut the lamb curry with a tin of chickpeas. But it still smells and tastes amazing, and perhaps the chickpeas make it a little more nutritious. 

3. The hesitant sound of Alec's piano practice, underlaid with his counting. I think I like this much better than any concert or perfected piece (which is lucky, because he will spend a lot more time practising than performing).

Planting in layers, waiting and winding down.

1. I realise that under the crocuses that are just now finishing under the driving rain I have planted crimson tulips.

2. It's a wet afternoon and there's nothing to be done but waiting, and nowhere to be but here.

3. It's been a busy, unusual day with too many moving parts. In the evening, once everything has wound down, I go back to work.

Our biscuits, new pens and daisy.

1. At coffee time, there are dark chocolate ginger biscuits. 'These are for adults only,' says Nick as we put them away separately from the family biscuit tin.

2. I clear out my gaming pencil case. Next month, when I've forgotten this, I will be surprised by some new pens.

3. One lawn daisy -- bright white and looking up -- has planted itself between the paving stones in our back garden.

Footnotes, tea and up the Amazon without a paddle.

1. I think I'm supposed to be listening to a meditation podcast but I keep getting distracted by the asterisk leaves of cleavers at the foot of the hedge.

2. Jo offers a wooden box of teas to choose from, which strikes me as much more civilised than our heap of boxes and plastic jars.

3. In tonight's game, we are making our way very slowing up the Amazon on a barge. It seems a very civilised way to travel, despite the rain and the heat and my character even bashes out an article on last episode's exorcism... only then we're attacked by giant mosquitoes.