Sunday 4 January 2008

• A long, shimmering strand of cassette tape blowing across the road, glinting orange under the street lights of an isolated industrial backstreet.
• Walking past the now cordoned-off Anish Kapoor sculpture at Tate Modern, with a (slightly smug) recall of the privilege of standing inside it - remembering what an overwhelming sensation it was.
• Being able to deal with an emergency for my middle sister.
• The warmth of three scarves, in particular the present from a friend that makes me think of her each time I wear it.
• A fried egg parcel on top of sludgy green spinach risotto. I ate too much.