1. The dusting of snow each night erases footprints like an etch-a-sketch.
2. For the first time in a few weeks, I write out a decent to-do list and use it as a project tracker throughout the day. The sense of accomplishment at the end of the day is wonderful.
3. I tip out the bag of buttons onto the bed sheet and pick through them to find the perfect three.
1. We return from the shop but the planned bacon butties are put on hold because, for the first time in days, the cats show an interest in the outside world. We walk down the chilly garden together, the cats sharply contrasted with the white. Boron shakes his cold paws with every step.
2. As beautiful as it is, the white world has made me crave colour. I wear my new-to-me stripey jumper for the first time and when I’m looking for wool at the yarn shop, oranges and purples leap out at me. I buy some and imagine curling up under a giant, bright granny-square blanket.
3. John makes us a curry for tea and it’s his finest yet – spicy and highly flavoured but not oppressively so. The best thing about it though is there are enough leftovers for dinner tomorrow night too.
1) The doorbell rings and it’s the smiling postman with a long awaited eBay purchase – a 50 year old big blue enamel bowl. I’d bought it intending for it to be a planter but it’s so pretty in the flesh that I want to use it for something grander. It’s delightfully cool to the touch.
2) The toast atomises with each delicious bite.
3) The Gillroyd Parade hosts another fine evening of entertainment at the Packhorse in Leeds. The crowd is smaller than usual but kind, the music beautifully lilting and the lyrics clever but fun.
1. The vivid turmeric in the curry turns their lips yellow and we laugh.
2. A combination of a large lunch and a warm office make me feel incredibly sleepy by mid-afternoon so I decide to go for a walk around the playing field at the front of the office to wake myself up. After I complete the first side of the rectangle, I turn to find a view of Leeds I’ve never seen before, glorious in the dying light. The buildings on the hill to the north of the city centre – the university’s Parkinson building, the churches and the rust tower – are most prominent but the sea of new tower blocks to the east are visible too. As I become more distanced from Leeds, I can see how much it’s grown and transformed during my time there.
3. It turns out my mid-afternoon sleepiness is also because I’m getting ill – I started to feel rough in the office but during the journey home, it fully blooms. It’s John’s cold from last weekend so now it’s his turn to look after me. In the evening, we eat soup and watch cartoons. The momentary relief after a sneeze or sinus shift is heavenly.
1. My feed reader empty for a change, I’m at a loss for something to read while I drink my post-lunch tea. I stumble upon an audio slideshow about a riddler on the Guardian’s website. The style of the narration grates at times but the pictures and process are fascinating. My tea goes cold as I watch.
2. Naked trees stand silhouetted against the still bright sky. Two plump-breasted birds converse.
3. I wait in the dark backstage for the girls to finish their piece. It’s only a rehearsal but I don’t have to be anywhere else so I wait. The light of distant illuminations dances on the obscured glass windows – red, blue, yellow and white sharp against the black night.
© 2024 Louisa Parry