1. I follow some guides for doodling cats and manage a few cute pictures. I shade in two completely with a 6B pencil but leave the third patchier to represent Strange’s calico coat. The rough paper adds even more texture.

2. Nibbling at my favourite biscuits.

3. Tilda has to decide between two of her favourite things – a tickle or a drink from a fresh bowl of water. She looks back and forth between the two then jogs over for the former before minkling back for the latter.

1. On the third week of my zine making workshop, we learn about letterpress. We enjoy the physicality of wooden blocks, savour the strange specialist vocabulary and marvel at the unbelievable amount of effort that it took to typeset newspapers and books in the past. The prints that we make are warm, characterful and unique.

1b. We laugh at the grimaces we pulled concentrating hard on our belly dancing moves.

2. Z draws us a picture of Lily while M and I talk about how sweet and gentle of a dog she was while we colour.

2b. The clouds zip across the moon. It looks amazing, dramatic. I tell John to look at it but he’s busy and says he’ll look in a moment, that it’s not going anywhere – but then a thick black cloud covers it, blotting out the light. I laugh at the timing.

3. The laser pointer makes ovals and rounded triangles on the wall. They remind me of pebbles.

3b. We have an impromptu YouTube party and laugh and laugh.

1. I draw some portraits of people in my life – they’re not particularly good impressions but subtle things are right in each one.

2. Thin slithers of onion which will melt away in the sauce.

2b. The bottom of the pan is evenly coated with bubbles.

3. I have a hindering headache and we’ve not played in months but soon enough I get my groove back.

0. Strange over stretches and nearly falls off the bed. I help her back up, laughing.

1. A bright, and not too cold, day. I prune the sage and various shrubs, and I clear away last year’s leaves to let this year’s breath. Cats and chickens watch me carefully.

1b. A squirrel pauses before shooting up the tree: its mouth full of leaf mulch, its tail flicking as it eyes me and Tilda.

2. A walk in the golden hour: along the road (where we see a cat darting into the field) to the allotment to see John’s dad’s work, then through the park (where we enjoy gable dormers of the usually hidden cottage) to the supermarket.

3. The roundness of the orange in the gelato sets off the warmth of the vanilla in the waffle. I’d asked for mint as an alternative if they didn’t have jaffa – but I’m glad I didn’t have to resort to that.

1. A growing list of things we’d like to do in the near future.

2. Placing photos within frames.

2b. Tilda joins me on the chair, as she always does when I sit there.

3. Succulent steak.

1. The pork pie is so tasty that it’s almost worth the inevitable indigestion that follows.

2. Curls of black cat. Kaufman amongst the cushions on the blue sofa; Tilda on the rucksack in front of the stove.

3. The ballet as we change the bedding. We have our own roles and without speaking come together for the shared tasks.