Visiting my parents, I’m in the kitchen, listening to the rain and the bubbling of the kettle on the oven. I’m making rhubarb marmalade, the way my grandmother taught me to. She told me my great grandmother made marmalade on rainy days, when it was cold and grey. They would light the fire in the stove and put the casserole on, letting it stay there all day.
The rain smelled green when I was out picking the rhubarb, and the cats are wet, purring in the kitchen window.

When I was writing this I suddenly noticed this caterpillar going for a stroll on my computer. Can you see him?

Look how he’s dancing in front of the camera, I think he likes the attention.
I better let him out of the window now.

My mum just put on Erik Satie.
Franz Kafka would have been 124 years today.