1. Shoots of wild arum, glossy and stiff as patent leather, force their way through the beige drifts of last year's leaves.
2. It's a particularly good kiwi fruit, and the pieces disappear as fast as I can cut them.
3. Towards the end of the afternoon, a mug of tea and a biscuit appear at my elbow.
1. Both children are off sick, so we all have a lie-in, warm in the dark, and don't get up until full daylight.
2. I work to a writing prompt -- first time in ages.
3. On my lunch tray, blood orange slices and chocolate biscuits.
1. Gorse blooms all year round, so to see the blossoms is nothing special -- but the thing is, the yellow pea-pod flowers are a welcome dot of brightness amid the dripping greys and muddy browns of a wet week in January.
3. To sit around a table making characters and back stories for a new game. I drift in and out of the conversations, thinking and chasing information rabbits in search of the perfect narrative details to match my random stats.
1. After the morning rush, I settle in with a book, aiming for a quick reset.
2. My son comes looking for a chat and some reassurance. Then my daughter joins us, sucking on a box of pineapple juice.
3. To add a few jazzies to a little rosette of whipped cream.
1. We don't have much on, and I am very tired after a day with friends. I spend the time drifting between books and podcasts.
2. The best thing to do for pre-food-tech nerves is to give her space to practise cutting apples and kiwi fruit.
3. The repair in our bedroom is done and we can finally tidy. The meter square of clear floor seems so luxurious. Hedonic adaptation will soon smooth it into ordinary, so we'll enjoy it while we can.
1. While I wait in line for the post office counter, the customers at the head of the queue for the shop fill a bag with vapes and vodka and chocolate, commiserating all the while with the assistant about bad wisdom teeth and the long wait for an NHS dentist.
2. It costs almost £4 in postage, but I am very pleased to dispatch a large parcel of well worn tights back to the manufacturer for recycling.
3. Cold at the open back door, I peer into the blue-green sky trying to see what Nick can see -- a fingertip width from Venus, Saturn should be visible. It takes a while and I have to be patient, but eventually the distant planet resolves.
1. A milky fog covers the town, tastefully draping the buildings that block our view of the horizon.
2. The little daisy in the awkward spot by the table has put out a defiant January flower.
3. Slipping boiled beetroots out of their skins.