1. The cans cut cleanly with the giant shearers.
2. I ask John his opinion on whether or not a joke is appropriate. When I tell him it, he howls with laughter which makes me realise it’s probably not appropriate but worth saying anyway.
3. The guitar has cunningly stolen Lily’s bone and she growls and growls until together we work out a way for her to get it back.
1. While John’s out, we have a lazy day, the dog, the cats and me. I comb Lily for one cartoon, then Carla for another. Carla, despite being a third of the size of the dog, wins the fluff shedding contest. Both feel softer and smoother by the time the funnies come to an end.
2. The rain slows for the first time all day and we descend into the woods for a walk. The mist hangs in the air beneath the canopy and reflects the light, making the lower levels brighter than they should be. The beck water is higher than it has been for the last few weeks but in the pools, it’s unusually clear too. Lily runs around like a crazy thing, I dawdle behind.
3. Nothing tastes as good as leftovers.
1. Lily and Katherine compete over who is more excited to see the other.
2. The rain tweaks the colour levels, allowing the pink blossom to peek through the curtain of greens.
3. We expect the usual lacklustre raita but find a cool smooth garlicky mayo instead.
1. At five days old, the ginger beer plant is satisfactorily gloopy and the sourdough starter smells divine.
2. Even though the general backstage consensus is that Thursday night was better, John is impressed by the show – the music, the costumes and the kids alike. I clap like a proud mum throughout.
3. Sleepy Lily droops in John’s arms as he carries her to the car.
1. The new floor reflects the light around the soon-to-be-decorated walls. I imagine how bright it will be when we’re finally finished: I can’t wait to work down there.
2. Her tail hits the water in a rapid beat.
3. The wool is tangled. It’s such fun to undo the knot.
4. Backstage, we mouth along the words to most of the songs but it’s only the last one that we join in the dance – the surge of joy that it’s very nearly over for another night.
1. For the second day in a row, we head out for a walk unencumbered by jackets or jumpers. The dog is in the beck more than out. The stretch of pasty skin between my trainers & my (long) shorts is spattered with mud by the time we return home.
2. They look at each other, giggling and showing off the details of their newly-finished costumes. Suddenly, after months of rehearsals, it all seems rather real.
3. I return home to find he still looks green – I always thought that was an exaggeration but he’s actually green-tinged. The boiled eggs and soldiers finally turn him pink again.
© 2024 Louisa Parry