You are reading books in a tent in the lounge. You both still have bottles in the afternoon.

Mabel has just come through to the kitchen, where I am sitting at the table writing. She mimed ‘I love you’. Her eyes. Her heart. Her mama. ‘Don’t forget to look after yourself’, she said to me, over her shoulder, as she left the room.

The Kale we sowed from seed has sprouted on the windowsill. 4 white plastic containers we filled with dirt, and watered and left to sleep in the sun.

You made your own sandwiches for lunch, tearing the crusts off and feeding them to the dog, as we sat here, all together.