1. As we’re chatting, S-dog, who he has been calling, finally appears around the elder tree. She always looks so happy. Kaufman, who has been on my knee on the balcony, sneaks down onto the wood store to keep an eye on her: he watches long after she’s gone.

2. An afternoon at the allotment. The weeds have gone crazy in the sunshine and showers of the last week, and both plots are awash with dandelions again – but I still make some progress. Little bits of work clearing open beds and patches of paths makes the entire plots look less unkempt.

2b. A perfectly proportioned pumpkin plant.

2c. I watch J on the other corner plot erect a frame of neat canes.

3. Strange meows to echo locate us. Later, she’s in a padding mood and stands on me for ages, kneading the blanket between us.

1. A kind check in from a friend.

2. Z tells us how his car seat works while spraying raisins all over the backseat.

2b. He calls me in to see his creation. I don’t have to feign awe: it is genuinely one of the biggest poos I’ve ever seen.

2c. As John notes, his confused face is a picture – and it’s worth being silly to provoke it again and again.

2d. Little JJ takes the sunglasses from her granny and poses like a starlet on the red carpet.

3. It’s 9:30pm on a Sunday night and the gelato place is still heaving, with sugar-happy groups laughing and chatting loudly. It’s a little too bright, a little too loud, to be truly enjoyable but the waffle and ice cream goes a long way to making up for it.

1. While I’m still asleep, John goes to the new pop up bakery in Saltaire and brings back bread, pies and cakes. He discovers that it’s run by the same people as used to run the bakery in the back of the health food store in Shipley – ie, the people that make the best chocolate brownies in the world. Later, when I open the paper, I worry that they’ve lost their special brownie tray (which they claim is the secret to their success) as it looks dry – but when I bite into it, I realise it’s as perfect as ever: the dry “crust” is less than a millimetre thick – just enough to hold the slice together – and inside, it’s rich and almost impossibly moist.

2. Laughing our way around the garden centre. John makes lots of bad puns about trees but his – and my – favourite joke is one that calls back to a cartoon we watched earlier in the week. He is left almost breathless amongst the fuchsias as he laughs and laughs.

2b. I buy more plants than I intended – and arguably, a few more than I need. I only have time to plant out half of them before I have to finish for the evening, but already they’ve fill in the deadspots in the pots on the patio.

2c. I plant the bright green sedum in our old black colander.

3. N-cat is getting braver as predicted. He rubs legs, accepts tickles and eyes up John’s pizza from the arm of the chair.

3b. O’s genuine enjoyment of Eurovision allows the rest of us to make fun of it.

1. Sending a single email makes me feel like the day is infinitely more productive and successful.

2. The lime and coriander transform the chilli sauce. The calamari rings are firm but not chewy. The steak is not quite medium-rare, but it’s exactly how I want it.

3. As darkness falls, it’s a little too cold to be in a skirt with no tights. My teeth chatter on the way into the shop but stop as soon as I am sufficiently distracted by the cakes.

1. A day in the garden – tending to seedlings in the morning then in the afternoon, weeding the paved bits and tidying up the pots on the balcony and office level. It’s a good day for it – nice but not too hot.

1b. I separate out the seedlings’ roots by soaking them in a bowl of water. (The bowl is one of my first attempts at sgraffito – nice little bowls but the glaze inside didn’t work out, so they’ve been relegated to the garden.) The seedling soil makes a lighter mud than compost and turns the water a particular beige — twice I mistake it for a cup of tea.

1c. The fruit bushes all look healthier than I remember them in previous years: lots of new growth and bright green leaves. Their compatriot trees are full of blossom and in fine leaf too. I don’t know if it’s just another year of growth or a quirk of the spring weather but either way, it looks like we’ll have a good crop this year.

1d. I get nettle stings in my bum crack (thanks to my baggy shorts and lack of belt). The beautiful thing is that they hurt less than the ones on my hands.

1e. A-cat from next door pads the top of the fence while John tickles her head. She has a magnificent tail.

2. Our neighbour (for the next fortnight) R tells me about the opportunity he’s been offered and seems to talk himself into it as we chat. It sounds great – perfect for him at this stage in his new career – and I’m jealous of his opportunity to be part of something bigger, to help make something that’ll last.

3. A couple of drops of hot sauce liven up the leftover enchiladas.

1. Potato cakes with a little butter and a lot of pepper, with a nice sharp cheese.

2. The perfect – but petite – silver birch in the car park.

2b. Since I could feel the aftermath of the first week’s capsizes on my sinuses for a couple of days afterwards, I’m a bit apprehensive about practising them this week. My new nose clip does its job though and I feel far more comfortable as I slither out from underneath the boat.

2c. I say “swim swim swim” rather than do it.

3. We throw together a quick dinner – working together to stir and chop veg – and it’s delicious.