100 miles north-north-east: day two
1. The happy fat cat licks his bum in the sun while the farm’s cafe’s customers bustle around him. His fluffy white tummy reflects the light and I think how much G would like to tickle it.
2. I can’t change my train ticket so have 2.5hrs to kill in a strange city. I head away from the station, up what initially seems to be a somewhat dubious alley, but it turns out to be the home of a wonderful pub. I sit on the roof terrace to read and while away the time – but when I see a meal brought out for another customer, I change my plan: I HAVE to eat there. I order steak and it’s wonderful: deep chargrilled checks on the outside, succulent pink inside. The veg is melts in the mouth without being soggy and the yorkshire pudding is a great gravy sponge. A fantastic find.
3. I open my fold-down table and find tiny pieces of yarn – wool-heavy cream and pale green, baby blanket colours. I feel a bond to the previous occupant of the seat.
4. The wait, the journey: the perfect excuse to read. I started the book at breakfast and by the end of the day, it’s closed and back on the shelf.
5. The red-dot chickens again, this time in the magic hour.
100 miles north-north-east: day one
1. Hundreds of chickens – little red specks in the giant field – mill about in the early morning mist.
2. The blue robed woman stands in her garden, watching the train go by.
3. Suddenly the rows of terraced housing give away. The glorious green slopes draw the eye down to the curve of the steely river.
4. For the second time that day, I’m surprised by the quality of the chocolate brownie I’m eating.
5. I love it when posh-voiced older people swear randomly.
6. We’ve chatted over email and IM but it’s the first time we see each other face to face in nearly a decade. I’m surprised how familiar his voice still sounds.
7. I’ve had three long-time-no-see reunion incidents over the last few years and this one is by far the best. I’ve missed them a lot.
After the chicken run, stepping stone, repeating, evening walk, giveaway smell
1. I sneak back into bed and facing each other, we hold hands inbetween our chests. The dog snuggles her nose into the inverted v-shaped space between our arms.
2. I half open my eyes when I feel the cat step off me. I see her use the sleeping dog as a stepping stone to get to her dad. After she’s settled down on the other side of the bed, Lily finally reacts, looking first at the cat then at me. “Yes, I saw it,” I whisper.
3. I finally meet one of our neighbours for the first time. We chat chickens and growing things. A dog bark in the distance calls me away but just before I go, I think to introduce myself. As I walk away, I hear him repeating my name to himself as a memory aid.
4. We – Lily, John & I – take an evening walk in Thackley Woods. The world is still, the only sounds bird call & distant whinnying and over Baildon’s hills, the sunset is a hazy red.
5. The cat has been sleeping in the washing again. When she jumps on my knee, she smells line-fresh.
One about a dog & one about a lost cat, real/virtual
1. Jake the German Shepherd’s ears are marvellous: when he’s intrigued by something, they not only lift up but bend together to form one giant attentive ear.
2. I say her name and she meows. A few steps then we repeat it again and again. A barrier of nettles, brambles and a steep drop barely navigable in the bare winter keeps me from her so I have to walk back to the garden, down and right around but all the while, I say her name and she meows. This is how we find each other then I carry her home.
3. After an afternoon in the garden, tending to the veg beds & the chickens, I spend the evening playing Harvest Moon DS Cute – tending to my virtual veg beds & virtual chickens.
Refreshing, so glad he asked, greetings
1. After suffering salesmen, it’s a relief to see their slumped rugby socks and hear their no-nonsense advice.
2. We repeat the walk Lily & I took on Saturday – a more direct route though, and no getting lost in the middle. I take John to all the things I found he marvels as I had done. While we’re up near the derelict buildings, we meet a couple of random dog walkers for the second time and after exchanging “hello agains”, John asks if they know anything about the buildings. Coincidentally, one of the women trained to teach woodland management and had to learn the history of the local woods. She confirms rumours we’d already heard – of exploding fireworks factories and Italian POWs. She tells us that “all the Calverley girls” loved the Italians, because they “just had that way about them”, and we tell her about John’s Italian heritage and laugh.
3. Lily & Carla visit each of the boys in turn to say hello.
In lieu of breakfast, the most handsome cat in the world, baklava
1. After a day apart, we catch up before getting up. He tells me his news and I tell him mine. At half hour intervals, we discuss making pancakes for breakfast but neither of us moves.
2. The cats look delightful on the new duvet cover. It’s spotty (like Smarties, Katherine says) and multi-coloured, a strong contrast to their solid black. I pull my mum & dad in from the landing on their way downstairs to show them how handsome Boron looks on it.
3. The baklava there is usually delicious but chewy, as if it’s been microwaved. Today though, the pastry is fresh and the flakes melt in my mouth. I urge everyone to try it but no one does. They’re missing out but I don’t mind: more for me. 
Walk, watermelon, grooming time
1. To walk further into the woods than we’d gone before and find exciting things.
2. The newly exposed seeds glisten as I walk down the garden. Russet heads peck at the garish pink flesh.
3. The rhythm of combing sends us both into a meditative state. The Simpsons run unwatched in the background.
Company, suit, welcome return
1. I am alone in the meadow. Except for the dog sniffing the grass. And the cat slowly baking in the sunshine. And the crickets chirping their alarm at our presence. And the dragonflies – the largest I’ve ever seen here – racing about over head. And the butterflies dancing over the thistles. And the bugs the baking cat is watching. And the woodpigeons softly cooing their five notes riff. I am not alone in the meadow.
2. I had forgotten how much the suit suits him.
3. I pick up my crochet hook for the first time in months – I can’t stand the feel of woolly yarn in my hands in the summer months – and begin a new project. I can’t believe how much I’ve missed it.