1. Carla purrs loudly: an early morning hug on the bed and in the sun. She doesn’t even care that the dog is on the other side of the bed: hugs, bed, sun – it’s all good.
2. I can’t remember what drew my attention first – the vivid orange of the rotting wood or the sight of a giant fungus growing on the dead stump – but I call Lily to go cross country (downhill between the two main paths) so we can check it out. The orange wood easily pulls away in chunks and is spongy to the touch. The giant fungus is hard – last year’s growth. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spot something more interesting – a twig dangling down, caught on two small branches, covered with coral-crested fungus. From a distance, it looks as tactile and solid as actual coral but it’s more delicate than that – each branch is flat, 2-D like it’s papercraft art.
3. The plasterers have gone but their dust remains throughout the house. It’s so thick and pervasive that I sometimes forget it’s there: assuming the whole world is just matte and dulled. Then I polish the shelves, the soon-to-be-fitted alcove units, and the grey turns into glossy conker brown. Colour and shine will return.
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