1. Lily has her first walk in the woods since last week – she stumbles a fair bit and full-on falls a couple of times but otherwise it goes well. The frozen mud crunches under our feet.

2. It’s been bright all day but when darkness falls so does the snow. The trees hang heavy and the street and moon lights reflect down the garden.

3. We finally turn off the bad film and play a couple of rounds of Ricochet Robots – we laugh as we bounce the rubber bots from wall to wall.

1. The first double-sock day and winter scarf wearing of the season. I forgot how much I like my cosy winter attire.

1b. I accidentally felt my cowl while washing it. It’s only slightly felted but enough to reduce its previously lovely drape. Still, it’s only one ball of wool and a couple of hours work, max: I have an excuse for a new project!

2. The moon looks a brilliant white until a cyclist passes me with LED headlights: next time I look up at it, it looks a dirty yellow. Slowly though, it brightens again and as my eyes adjust, more stars pop out of the blackness until the cloud consumes them.

2b. Ice glittering on the pavement underneath my feet. I slide around in a dance while Lily sniffs the hedgerow.

3. John giggling at an old film. At the end, he declares that it’s put him in a good mood – he wasn’t in a bad mood earlier but he’s in a better one now.

1. Lily’s still poorly – improving but still poorly. Yet her tail wags as fast as ever when I offer her some treats and later, when John comes home.

2. It feels like ages since I’ve listened to some of my favourite music. The warm blanket of melodies on a cold day.

3. The individual flavours shine through in the soup.

1. The day is bright enough to lure me down to the allotment for the first time in three weeks. Everything is, thankfully, undisturbed: the only signs of the wet, warm weather of late are the full water butts, the sogginess underfoot along the paths, and the healthy fat overwintered broad bean seedlings.

1b. The space at the rear of the plot looks particularly barren so I dig a new bed into it: I’ll pick up some new fruit bushes to fill it over the next few weeks.

1c. A pile of pulled dandelions with their full tap roots attached.

2. The doorbell rings: a man offering window cleaning services. I recognise him but I’m not sure where from and then it hits me – he’s the man with the cat from near the bus stop. I mention his kitty and he tells me how he rescued it from knee deep snow, how it’s only got one eye and how it rides around on his shoulder.

3. The crunch of the red peppers in our falafel pittas.

3b. The contrast between the rich saucy and the (pleasantly) bitter aubergine.

1. The rhythmic flick of water as I shake my hands dry.

2. Lily happily accepts cuddles then demands a walk, despite being unable to walk more than a few steps without stumbling. We don’t even get as far as the field gate around the corner but she sniffs EVERYTHING.

3. To get on and do something I’d been briefly procrastinating about for no good reason.

Another wobbly-head day for Lily. Poor lady.

1. It’s the WordPress theme that keeps on giving. After years (and more recently, this morning) of struggling with ones that don’t quite do what I want, this one works exactly as it should. I keep finding different – highly desirable! – included features that means my “fix in stylesheet” list gets shorter and shorter. Something I thought would be a month of work will now take less than a week. Marvellous.

2. I see Tilda approaching along the wood path with something in her mouth. When she finally reaches the cat flap, I see it’s a small dead rodent. I hold the flap closed until she drops it, then I let her inside for the tickles I know she wants.

2b. Later, Tilda is sat on the sofa, again waiting for tickles. In a shocking turn of events, there isn’t a blanket for her to sit on. I remedy that.

3. At twilight, the sky is a wonderfully bright violet-blue.

4. As wobbly as Lily is – she can hardly walk and her eyes are spinning, she still wants to play her Bonio game. I “hide” it in pretty much plain sight tucked half under a cushion on the floor. Her tail wags, sending her off balance, when she finds it.

4b. Also as wobbly as she is, she still has to sniff Kaufman when he comes in from outside. He smells of THINGS.