0. Frustrating yet creative insomnia.

1. I flick through the pages of the little booklets and see ideas upon ideas.

1b. I’m surprised how quickly our pages – and our collaborative zine – come together. My drawings come out better than I thought they would in such a hurry – I particularly like my little portrait of John: I’ve finally figured our how to draw his hairline and facial hair.

1c. Laden with boring shopping, I rush down through the town in the raining and arrive at the bus stop at the same time as the bus — but unfortunately then remember that I have more chores to do before I can set off home. I manage to get them done in the ten minutes between buses and for the second time, arrive at the bus stop just as the bus is pulling up.

2. I don’t quite nap but it’s nice to curl up in bed with a book for half an hour. It’s almost as good as a nap really, and I don’t end up quite so disorientated.

3. We share a few dishes and they’re all interesting and delicious. The staff are super friendly too.

1. I seize two bulls by the horns sending out a few emails. I spend the rest of the day waiting for replies that never come but still, I’m glad I sent them.

2. At dusk, the blue light on the cherry-plum blossom makes it looks like snow.

3. Stitches, neat in a line, carefully space and recursive, make the felt suddenly more interesting.

3b. I make more felt – colour blocks in single, and blended, shades; an experimental tube of felt is cut open to reveal its colourful core; and a final piece of completely blended fibres, will curls of stark white on top, which forms a beautifully natural shape.

1. The chaff seems essential context but once it’s stripped away, the wheat that’s left seems so much stronger.

2. Next door’s silky kitten visits me at the chickens and their other cat, the fluffy tux is waiting when I return to the top patio. It’s only after stroking her for a few moments that I realise Strange is nearby and the two ladies are fighting. Every now and then Strange emits a low growl and the other cat echoes with a hiss — but her heart isn’t it in: she makes the noise but her eyes, her tail, her attention remain happily on me.

2b. Tilda stands on the back of my office chair. When she jumps off, Kaufman on the seat spins a good 90degrees.

3. I can’t find a film to watch – I just want something nice and calm, with interesting characters and a dearth of contrived antics. A David Sedaris audio book ends up fitting the bill perfectly.

(Only one recorded for today – not sure why — it was a fine day!)

1. A lovely bright day inspires me to go outside for a short while and clean the windows – I do a patchy job really but it cleans off the winter grime so they’re cleaner, if now a bit streaky. At the back of the house, Tilda & Strange follow me from room to room, chasing my squidgy as it squeaks across the glass. Only Tilda remains supervising my work when I’m doing the porch though: there, her eyes widen to almost round when she sees a dog being walked down the road.

1. The soup is rather moreish – I eat a little too much, a little too quickly.

2. Tilda has a chatty day. We have a particularly cute *’mew’ ‘hi’ ‘mew’ ‘hi’* conversation.

3. The bare tree tops clank together in the wind. It’s a pleasant round sound but slightly menacing too – perhaps because it makes me think of rattling triffids.

4. Belly laughs at silliness.

1. Another day, another super cute logo for a silly project. I know they’re a bit pointless, not exactly groundbreaking or world changing but babysteps: it’s better to be trying something rather than nothing, who knows where they will lead?

2. The blitzed ginger & garlic and chilli forms a strangely well arranged circular gradient in the pot.

3. A brush, a play and a Bonio broken into bitesize chunks: she enjoys all the attention.