Three Beautiful Things

1. After the rain, town is as green as a bowl of salad. 2. We go to see Singin' In the Rain -- they have a rain set, and the falling water moves a sigh of cool air across the overheated audience. 3. One of Nick's friends is in town for a wedding. After the show, we go and find him in his hotel.

1. I can hear a baby laughing and laughing at her parents bringing in their washing. 2. Commuters walking home in their shirt sleeves. 3. We stroll down to Trinity to watch Micmacs (and eat ice cream). It's a funny, dark little film about a man, aided by his freaky friends, getting revenge on the arms dealers that ruined his life.

1. After a sleepless night, to get up and do the work that has been keeping me awake. 2. A flickering bird darts into the eaves. 3. A breath of wind. Cherry petals spinning across the drive.

1. To walk down the hill in the middle of a spring day without wearing a coat; and to see magnolia buds kindly waiting for the cherry blossom to have its day. 2. A sandwich made of soft white bread with smoked salmon and cucumber. 3. We watch the last episode of Lark Rise, and leave the characters happy in their own particular ways. There is a new season coming, and their lives will be turned upside down again, but at least they'll have a contented winter.

The Three Beautiful Things podcast is up -- with some bonus springtime items. I've been getting some really lovely comments lately -- I very much enjoyed yesterday's crop , particularly Daisy May's own list of beautiful things, and Louisa's description of spring round her way. Never underestimate the power of a kind word about 3BT to make my day! 1. To go out in the first days of spring wearing a coat, and find myself damp and overheated when I get home. The second time I go out, I leave the coat behind. I am serious and workmanlike on the outside, but inside I'm whooping with joy. 2. It's so good to see people strolling around -- we are coming out now the weather is warmer. One man in a sky blue jumper looks a bit dazed, as if he'd forgotten over winter how much world there was. I see him pause at the top of the road and examine the pole of a traffic sign. 3. To cut through the crisp skin of a baked potato -- the hot insides are soft and creamy...

1. The Common, with its bare trees and clear ground, seems barren at the end of winter. But it’s smiling in the sunshine as if it has a secret happiness. 2. Crocuses (baby mauve, egg-yolk yellow and whole milk white) have pushed their way through the khaki dead ground in the park. Today, they are the only pure bright colours in all creation (apart from the sky, I mean). 3. The financial advisor comes round, and I ask him a question that has been bothering me for months. He looks over a few pages, taps on his calculator and says that it's best to leave things as they are.

1. For the first time this year, it's warm enough to walk around the flat in bare feet in the early morning. 2. We grab a cup of coffee and a sit in the sun -- the home-worker and the mother with a new baby. 3. Catherine and I talk on the phone. She says that my goddaughter is reading now: "You know the little letter you wrote in her birthday card? She read most of that." Ellie has been identifying letters since she was tiny, so I've always taken care to print clearly in her cards so she can do just that -- but to hear that she's reading tickled me very much.

1. Waking up to see a bit of daylight prying itself through the gap in the curtains. Morning work feels like a light bath, and it makes me feel like getting things done. 2. Nick's sister Sarah rings to tell me to expect a plant. A couple of hours later, a man comes to the door. "I've got a very large ivy for you." It's a cone, about the height of a child, and it's perfect for the collection of pots along the sunny wall. 3. It's satisfying to pick off and throw away the fat that has floated to the top of a stew taken from the fridge.

The new Podcast up is up. 1. I like it when I look up from my work and it's an hour earlier in the day than I expected. 2. I buy myself a Cadbury's creme egg and eat it after lunch. I feel as if I've done my duty for the year. 3. The parsnips have browned to the colour of autumn oak leaves. They taste faintly of honey, although I cooked them plain.

It'll be Three Beautiful Things' fifth birthday on Monday May 18. I'm thinking about an evening drinks celebration somewhere in TWells, to which everyone is welcome. It would be good to have an idea of numbers, though -- any takers? I'd like to re-post a few favourite things -- suggestions always welcome. Drop me a line: i am five at three beautiful things dot co dot uk (take out the spaces and replace ats and dots with symbols to make the address work). 1. Cherry blossom in the grass. A fall of pink snow. 2. Her ginger-gold hair is short and still baby-feathery. From the top of the wall she watches me coming up the street, shaking out my umbrella. We both smile. She has such tiny teeth. 3. Nick comes out of the bathroom with no beard. His chin is so soft that I keep wanting to touch it; and his unfamiliar face surprises me.

1. Someone has shouted 'GO' and turned the whole town green. 2. The rocket burgeons on my plate, the colour of wild, tangled May grass; and the tomatoes are the red of heroes. In this, the prawns are a bit lost, but they are so sweet and juicy. 3. New moon -- near-the-horizon-huge -- not enough silver to shine up the whole ring.

1. Leaving for work with no coat on. 2. Finding a prize coupon in a box of hundreds-and-thousands -- it was only 50p off another box of hundreds-and-thousands, but I still felt a thrill as I opened the tiny envelope. 3. The sticky sound of a brayer rolling on ink. And then rolling the ink on to a piece of paper to see the print appear.

I've put comment moderation on for a while because of spam. 1. When I go down to the sandwich van, I find the air outside is warmer than the air inside, and I'm tempted to stand around chatting, rather than hurrying back indoors to get away from a biting wind laced with freezing rain. 2. The lie of the land has caught a pocket of warm, damp air against the slope. We stand for a moment feeling the heat. 3. I am so tired by the end of the evening that I fall asleep almost before I realise I've got into bed.

1. The rust red and gold stripes on crispy bacon. 2. Every one of the cherry blossom that jostle for our attention has its own damp piece of new leaf. They remind me of soft fat ladies, powdered and rouged faces over little green silk scarves that are knotted round their necks, 1950s style. 3. There is some wind, and the air is spring cool -- but this smooth concrete bench has warmed up in the sun, and has a view across Romney Marsh, almost to the sea.

1. The giant hornbeam tree that shades the street says -- and the saplings in the hedge agree -- that it's time to start putting out pleated leaves. 2. The whole two miles home is out of the sun -- except where a street heading west lets the red-gold light through to warm the baptist chapel. 3. A parcel comes, a book which one of you readers thinks I would like. It's about affirmations, and it reminds me (as do all your comments, and the growing list of followers) of all the good things I get from writing three beautiful things each day.

1. I step outside to pick up the milk and check my pots of seeds. The air is so still and cool and the day so full of possibilities. 2. A flowering shrub in the middle of this front garden has an old curtain thrown over it to keep the cold off. 3. We find frogspawn in the nature reserve pond. She tells me that when she was at junior school, she stole a single jellied egg from the class's tank and took it home in her drink bottle. Her mother was very cross and said: 'Well you'd better look after it.' So she raised a little frog.

1. I'm so glad I'm experienced and old enough to recognise stress-mongering; and that I know how to avoid it. 2. Getting out of the office for a walk in the leafless and sunny woods. 3. I've been thinking about pepperoni pizza all day, so I'm pleased to see slices in two huge dishes on the dinner table.

1. For the first time this year, I'm not wearing gloves outside. Holding Nick's naked hand is strange and new. 2. The traffic is backed up in both directions past work, and all the way into town. I like the feeling of knowing something somewhere is up, but not knowing quite what. 3. Nick reports that the cricket commentators on Five Live are happy because someone brought them in a cake.

1. There is something of spring in the air -- but I can't decide if it's a warmth, or a smell or a sort of light. 2. Peeling the white threads off a tangerine. 3. There is washing up, but the next time I come into the kitchen, it has vanished.

1. At the end of lunch, she says: 'It's lovely outside. Warm as spring.' 2. The parish vicar visits us at our desks once a month to see how we're doing. He has a fistful of earrings and an infectious laugh. Wherever he goes round the office there is laughter and exchange of news. 3. I wake in the dark and can't remember anything about myself or my life. Then the knowledge returns and I have to smile at how happy I am.