My mum's dubbed cassette of Simon & Garfunkel's Concert in Central Park, which somehow was in his car while they were separated. He won't remember the rainy night he was driving me home from Germany and we got lost on Austrian back roads, but I do - it's when I heard The Boxer for the first time.

How is it possible that feeling bad makes me want a little treat but also feeling good makes me want a little treat this is rigged

More shots from my Possibly Cursed Film Roll, because my week's shaping up to be a wreck, and I want to remember I'm capable of making stuff I like. Vibe: the long peaceful park walk I wish I could have today. 📷 Pentax Spotmatic F 🎞️ Kodak T-MAX 100 📍Giardini di Boboli, Firenze, Italy #believeinfilm

Man I am really going through it (a monday) right now (a monday)

So much kept going wrong with my B&W film roll, I thought it might be cursed. The scans came back, and the only thing that's haunting is the "deserted 1900s buildings in the Italian countryside" vibe. Which luckily is what I was going for. 📷 Pentax Spotmatic F 🎞️ Kodak T-MAX 100 #believeinfilm

Easy @thecatreviewer.bsky.social 10/10 to the tuxedo beauty who brightened yesterday's walk. Perfect Poirot moustache, friendly head bumps, what's not to love. Also 10/10 to its long-haired pal that arrived out of the blue, because what's better than a new cat friend if not two cat friends at once?

There's a yearly artist open studio week in my area, and when I go, I'm in awe of so many people who make art alongside a day job and show it so proudly. And I think, what if I tried selling some photos one year. Then I see the sign-up fee and my brain goes "quite the price to likely sell nothing".

The weather on my holiday back home might have been moody, but if there's one thing we weren't short of, it was beautiful sunsets. And just like that, nostalgia for a summer that hasn't even ended yet begins to kick in.

People I haven't seen in a while: Helloooo, so cool you're back home for a few days, how ARE you! Me, quietly facing the past few months' feelings of being a failure, in the very place where I used to dream of all I'd grow to achieve: Good thanks! On holiday, haha, my brain is so switched off!

This is where being a middle school teacher's very introverted only child could get kinda fun. Lots of time to myself, many atlases in the house. The look of amazement from my partner when I ace the Flags or Capitals round of a TV quiz show is worth every hour spent playing alone in Mum's study.

August reads on @thestorygraph.com: . Three excellent novels with different flavours of workplace drama at the core, plus Selling the Dream, which was so good it deserved its own post a couple weeks ago.

We think this one must be on a Most Wanted List somewhere, but joke's on them, we're not snitching.

Chunky nonfiction book: check. Vintage beach towel: check. Erratic North-Eastern Italian weather: check. That'll be me sorted for the Bank Holiday weekend.

Saved @seejanemarie.bsky.social's book for my summer nonfiction spree. Well worth the wait. Brought me back to the pre-pandemic days when I listened to The Dream to on my commute, and had me spend half an hour talking at Partner to process my disbelief that Bomb Party is an actual thing that exists.

What did you say, human? You planned an hour of writing in the garden? Let me disabuse you of that notion and catch a live fucking rat I will bring inside and kill right under your desk. (pictured here: the moment after I gave her treats and told her she is Such An Enormously Accomplished Hunter)

Breakfast of champions. Coconut + pistachio + mahleb courtesy of eBay + the rest of last month's sour cherries, frozen specially for this occasion (it's a birthday cake or sorts). Give me a cookbook with more consistently excellent sweet recipes than a Honey & Co. book, and no, no you can't.

Anyone who is my friend gets homemade baked goods for birthdays and Christmas. All well and good but where is my share of pistachio amaretti (in a nice little box in the cupboard, but I'm being a baby because I can't have any until tomorrow).

July reads on @thestorygraph.com, slowly working through my ever-growing Libby queue. The Borrowed took me almost all month and it was time very well spent. Highly recommended to all of you slow-burner mystery fans out there, Wong Kar-Wai please make that film I beg you thanks.

Age verification? I know all the Spice Girls’ maiden names

I had an iced Americano after 3pm and two different types of sweet treats with dairy cream, and am still here to tell the tale. Not a bad ending for the week I started by pulling all of my neck and upper back muscles through the simple act of getting up from my desk chair. Ha! What's my age again?

The art (Lena standing in front of my big screen while I'm typing) vs. The artist (the cat herself, fully intending to do it again)

"You should give yourself more grace." "Myself? You mean my most hated enemy? Why would I do that?"

This Amy Hempel quote has been living rent-free in my head since I first read "Reasons to Live" somewhere around 2009. It's mostly a silent guest, but every time I have a Very Bad Day at work, it pops up again.

My home region in Italy is the proud producer of several unique varieties of cheese and red wine. All of those are stuff I can't even stand the smell of, let alone enjoy eating.

My Sunday gift to you is the Serious Eats recipe for cherry syrup, made with pits before they're discarded: www.seriouseats.com/cherry-pit-s... Absolute winner on pancakes, and we might make cherry mojitos next. Would also recommend as fake blood for your crime scene re-enactions, 10/10 for colour.

How dare the entirety of Vinted UK not be selling the exact scarf, trousers and dress I've been refusing to buy at full price for a year, oh the nerve, the audacity, the unmitigated gall.

On my 7th meeting of the day (18th this week), and it's a department update with a slot about getting better at deciding when it's productive to have meetings. I'm way too exhausted to even attempt sarcasm, so make of that what you will.

June reads on @thestorygraph.com. How Kyoto Breaks Your Heart is lovely, the kind of book that makes me wish I was friends with the author. Picked up Money Men because hey, a scam I didn't know of! It's a wild ride, but I'm finding the Hot Money podcast (on a related story) much easier to follow.

Since I'm making three batches of madeleines for our catsitter, thought I might as well do a quality check. It's the only break I'm catching today, got to make a good one.

Is Cowboy Boots In A June Heatwave this year's women's fashion thing? How can it possibly be comfortable? Don't they feel their legs melting? I am very unfashionable and the mental age of my mother, please help me understand.

I almost didn't notice this Very Famous Actress on my flight back from Venice last September, because the Very Colourful Outfit worn by the man next to her caught my eye first. "Have you seen?", my partner asked. And I said yes, yes of course, thinking that he too was admiring the shirt.

Today's mood: swinging between urges to scream at my work laptop and sing Jenny Lewis to the cat. I can't blame her for not thinking much of my voice. She did perk up when I said "rabbit fur coat", though.

Just made an update to my Linkedin profile that vaguely sounds like talking myself up. Could the earth please swallow me whole so that cringe and embarrassment don't end me first, goodbye world, it's been good while it lasted.

May reads on @thestorygraph.com. Dirty Work is among the bleakest books I ever read (for valid reasons). A Magical Girl Retires wasn't so cheerful either (not meant to be bleak - I think! But the protagonist's voice often dragged me down). I Hope This Finds You Well wasn't worth the hype - big sigh.

Took this the instant before Lena's shadow changed, awkwardly turning back on my chair, morning coffee in hand, pondering the million things I must do today, and if my elbow isn't in the frame it's only by one lucky millimeter. Wishing you all one moment of unexpected bliss today, just like this.

Today is for good (no, great) writing news: the opening of Olga Campofreda's Ragazze Perbene, my first book-length translation project, is on the Asymptote blog. I'd love for the full novel to reach English-speaking readers, so if you enjoy this, tell your publisher friends!

Signs I haven't been myself this week: I can't name even a single dish I might like for dinner, and haven't been able to decide on a suitably funny and recent cat photo to send an animal-loving friend with birthday wishes. The one of Poppy plotting a pigeon's demise wouldn't be appropriate, right?

Inside me there are two wolves. One has the Eurovision playlist on for entertainment while browsing Bluesky for work; the other's pondering an essay about the pains of being a teenager in smalltown Italy at the peak of Gabry Ponte's success (which was NOT two decades ago, Wikipedia is lying, right?)

April reads on @thestorygraph.com. I did say more football and crime were coming! Mixed feelings about Godwin (liked the football plot and its unexpected twists, disliked most characters), while First Lie Wins is my favourite of the year so far, which is saying a lot as I'm picky with thrillers.

The loaf that took ages to prove last night is this morning's breakfast babka. And tomorrow's dessert babka, which we'll serve with extra drizzles of salted caramel sauce and vodka.

I have a joke about Oedipus and the sphinx, but the punchline's going to raise a few questions.

I have basked in the sun with a drink in hand. Finally seeing the back of this stupid week, and finally ready to believe it's spring.

When I’m stuck in the office on a sunny day and all I can think about is my garden.

Can someone please adopt my silly foster cat who didn't let two layers of protectors stop her from ruining my big screen HDMI cable, so much determination in one small being, perfect if you appreciate persistence in your lifelong companion (gee, what a pitch, too bad I don't do sales for a living).

I would pay serious money for a 20th anniversary tour of this album, since they never played anywhere near me in the 2000s. Still remember where I was the day I first heard it / the day I realised I'd lived in the UK long enough for all the lyrics about nights out to finally click into place.

what is wrong with me and how do I monetize it

Seething that I'm home feeling like garbage instead of out with friends on a lovely sunny evening. Definitely, DEFINITELY the right attitude to work on my novel before dinner. Should I be tempted to pretend this is a planned effort to prioritise writing, my assistant has the eye-roll just for me.

Home cooks of Bluesky, what's a meal for one that brings you joy? I'm bored of all my go-to dishes and keen for something new. Since I'm unwell, I'm looking to keep things simple: a link to a recipe to follow, and ideally metric measurements. 🍽️🍜

March reads. More crime, more football, and more of both to come in April. "Evenings and Weekends" was quite the ride. Beautifully written, I picked it up because I love a London-based novel, but it wasn't sense of place that reeled me in: the character introspections are so, so strong. #BookSky 💙📚