1. To not feel guilty about having some playtime in the middle of the day.

2. There has been a shocking dearth of cheese in our house recently so we go a little overboard in compensation. I weigh the resulting cheese mountain: 2.6kg!

3. The marinade on the meat is delicious – my contribution. Then it and the vegetables are cooked to perfection – his contribution. “Good effort Team Peach!” we say, full and content.

1. The bright yellow, the warm orange and the muted mustard in between.

2. Hypnotised by the treat, she runs around the mud.

3. Chickpeas in the curry, yes.

A conversation with my mum about her researching our family history.

(16:08:48) mum: i’ve got that far back on the barrett side
(16:09:24) mum: cannot do any further…ireland
(16:11:28) louisa: do you know which bit of ireland at least?
(16:11:48) mum: limerick
(16:14:57) louisa: ok, there was an old woman from southport
whose own family history she sought,
she knew they’re from limerick,
at least all the old micks,
so she could go there as last resort
(16:15:07) louisa: it doesn’t quite scan but you have to give me props for trying ;)

1. The soup is still a little frozen when I plop it into the pan: a combination of watery and big crystals, thoroughly unappetising. But after just a few moments of heat, it is silky smooth again. I push the wooden spoon back and forth, watching the liquid move around the obstacle. It’s very pleasing.

2. Her sweet little dog make the introduction and we chat dogs and chickens, as we often do on walks, until her son reaches us.

3. Team Peach sleep in a heap. Stereo purring with an additional vocal track from the snoring dog.

I’m toying with a variation on Three Beautiful Things – five things from my day, one for each sense, not always beautiful things but a memory of the day all the same. I’m hoping it’ll encourage me to be more varied with my 3BTs :)

1. Sight – Boron curled into my lap, then one long paw stretches out across my leg. (Lunchtime hugs from him are rare treats.)

2. Sound – well, actually not-sound: the beat of silence before the last word of the line, making the whole thing so much funnier.

3. Touch – the stick I pick up to throw for Lily is cool and smooth. It’s been stripped of bark and weathered. I don’t throw it for Lily after all; instead I take it home to put with my driftwood collection.

4. Taste – leftovers for lunch surprisingly nicer than when they were fresh. (Pasta with mackerel and peppers)

5. Smell – the soiliness of autumn.

0. To wake up in cold in the night and be able to cuddle into my favourite fleshy radiator to warm up again.

1. Spongey, rather than slippy or squelchy, mud underfoot. The velvet-capped mushrooms to the side.

2. Travelling west at sunset, when the soft clouds glow pink against the blue, and a haze covers everything.

3. Thinking I’d have to have something dull (or strange) for a late supper but then, at the last second, remembering I have leftover Singapore noodles.