OCTOBER

I’m looking forward to the slower pace of winter.

I can’t believe I’m writing this but it’s true. Last winter was tough. A complete culture shock, really. I’d have moved back to London at the drop of a hand hoe.

But after a busy spring and an even more hectic summer, it’s lovely to think of kicking back and spending more time just pottering about and enjoying my home; catching up on the jobs I never get round to doing when the heat is on; and planning the next twelve months, which includes (yay!) poring over my lovely seed catalogues again.

I’m catching up on my reading, too. Over the summer, especially, I’ve been working in the garden sometimes until ten o’clock, grabbing a quick bite then crashing into bed exhausted. But now, I have the delicious luxury of reading before lights out. Last night, I found this lovely quote that I simply had to write down. ‘Essential advice for the gardener: grow peas of mind, lettuce be thankful, squash selfishness, turnip to help thy neighbour and always make thyme for loved ones.’ Corny but very apt, I thought.

There’s a definite chill in the air now and far fewer daylight hours to spend in the garden. The trees are changing colour too, which is a joy to watch. I’ve always loved the flaming reds and golds of autumn and now I’m actually living amid this glorious riot of colour.

I’m realising that every season has its highs and lows. Just now, for instance, it’s marvellous to get a rest from mowing the grass and the eternal bloody business of weeding.

I know some people find weeding therapeutic but I hate it with a passion.

I’ve always been of the firm opinion that weeds are like grey hairs: if you pull one out, two will invariably grow back in its place. (And as they say in gardening circles: ‘With fronds like these, who needs anemones?’)

Now I’m off down the lane to see Posy. I’ve got a surplus of Bramleys and she does make a wonderful apple cake. (I keep telling her she should go into business, selling her baking. She’d make a fortune!)