Breathe, waffles and greyish.

1. It's such a little, simple thing, but the Google breathing exercise app; and the fact that Guanyin, Buddhist bodhisattva associated with compassion keeps appearing in various guises and places.

2. It turns out that it's fine to cook waffles the night before (when you have lots of time) and let the children put them in the toaster in the morning.

3. Alec comes home greyish from head to foot. He is full of stories about walking on a muddy beach in his pyjamas, having hot chocolate on his cereal and driving over The Sheppey Crossing.

Expedition, pineapple and independence.

1. Alec walks jauntily up the street with his uncle. They are going climbing and camping together.

2. This is a really good pineapple.

3. The non-sound of Bettany and her friend getting themselves ready for bed, watching a film and then taking themselves upstairs.

Occupied, can do and grasshopper.

1. When I look up again, the children are still sitting round a table doing a poetry writing workshop. (Tunbridge Wells Poetry Festival is still going on this week)

2. 'I can't do poetry, I'm no good at English.'

I remember an editor once telling me that if I found something interesting, other people would, too. So I say, 'Just write down something you saw and thought was interesting.'

She thinks for a moment and writes a rhyming couplet about her dog's coat.

3. There is a bright green grasshopper in the hair of the woman sitting in front of me.

Cupboard, helper and hair.

 1. The sight of Alec tidying up the cupboard under the TV. I have tried for so long to tame this horrible mass of cables and devices, and usually have to hold everything in with one hand while slamming the door shut. But if Alec wants to take ownership, perhaps it will stay tidier for longer.

2. As I am leaving Nick asks Bettany if she'd like to help with the washing up. When I return, the step is by the sink.

3. I had my hair done this morning. Finally when I show up for drinks with Katie and Sarah in the evening, someone notices.

I did get there, a sound and reconnect.

1. A kind friend gives me a lift to a poetry workshop on Ashdown Forest with the poet in residence there, Sian Thomas. We write in a magical spot called Gill's Lap, which looks out across the gorse to the sunny fields beyond. 

2. While we are doing the opening exercise, I hear a sound which I think is someone grumbling, or laughing to themselves. The moment I realise that it's a dog. 

3. When I get home, the children are almost ready for bed. Nick has been reading to them. I join them on the sofa and we all cuddle up for a while to reconnect.

Children are home, splinter and open mic.

1. The children come rushing through the gate with pockets full of sand and then we let the butterflies go.

2. Tears spring to Bettany's eyes when she washes her hands. She has a splinter in her finger. I sterilise my magic needle and work away. She is very brave throughout, complaining steadily, but never flinching. And soon there is a tiny thorn clasped in my tweezers. 

3. The various sights and spectacles at an open mic night for Tunbridge Wells Poetry Festival. John Wheeler, who speaks like a fire and brimstone preacher, and shares a funny, dramatic Shakespearean soliloquy about a problem with his zip. A woman who speaks mainly through a patchwork pig to hilarious, chaotic effect. And the usually gentle, mannerly Steve Walter, responding to environmental concerns and background noise, unleashes the full power of his voice, which is electrifying. (You can see Steve in person at Remember the Earth Whose Skin You Are).

Corralling numbers, not a wasted outing and eye-witness accounts.

1. Once I've done my financial admin and enticed the numbers back into their spread sheet cells, I feel much less anxious.

2. We take a stroll, really just to get out of the house, but we pretend we are going look at an antiques shop while we don't have children with us, and a mythical new food hall that is rumoured to be opening round the back of the Pantiles. They are both closed, because it's Monday. It's not a completely wasted outing, though: We run into our friends and they tell us with wide eyes and much joyful enthusiasm about their road trip round the south of England -- Jane Austen's house and the Bodleian Library were the highlights.

3. Talking to the children on the phone about their day's adventures. It's funny to hear how their stories differ.