changing seasons

I’ve been informed that my last post was my 200th. Two hundred posts? Really? Talking about gardening and running and sewing and nonsense? Goodness me. Please do join me in a celebratory cup of tea and a Curly Wurly, it’s been lovely having you along for the ride.

There’s been a distinct nip in the air this week, and my thoughts are starting to turn to winter, even though it very definitely still feels like autumn out there.

I’ve always enjoyed autumn. When my sister and I played a fairy game as children, I was always ‘Crimson’, the autumn fairy. (My sister was the spring fairy – I remember infuriating her by calling her ‘Mabel’ rather than ‘May Belle’). I love the colours of autumn, I love wearing gloves and scarves, and tramping through the leaves.

I don’t get all gloomy as the nights draw in, although I know several people who do. As a child I never was one for too much sunshine, and was always quite happy curled up inside with a book. As I get older I do appreciate the sun, but my appetite for cosiness has never left me.

A lovely friend of mine (and a lovely friend of hers) has started a blog to help her get through the winter with a spring in her step. I’ve enjoyed ambling through the archives today, thinking cosy thoughts and planning wintry things to do. Please do pop over there and say hello, and have a read of their ideas for a more enjoyable winter.

I’ve been talking to people about this lately, and it seems the key to enjoying winter is embracing cosiness. I long for a proper fire, but unless I move house it’s not going to happen. So instead I light candles, and I marvel at the difference it makes. Not quite the same as a fire, but definitely a cosifying effect.

Also, for the first time I’ve invested in a properly toasty dressing gown and a pair of furry slippers, and I’m already finding it easier to get out of bed on a dark morning.

I’m eating a lot of potatoes, and often find myself making thick stews and risottos. I made bread again today for the first time in months – irrational, but I feel myself more drawn to it in the winter (or perhaps it’s just because I’ve been watching Tudor Monastery Farm). (Incidentally, I need to brush up on my bread-making skills, again).

I’ve spent several nights sitting with a seed catalogue, circling things I don’t need, but that would be very nice to grow. I’ve found myself longing for this time next year, when I’ll have sprouts and chard and parsnips in the garden.

Ah, the garden. It’s beautiful when the leaves are turning, and then becomes a wilderness of nothing but sticks. Lilac sticks, and acer sticks, and fucshia sticks, all surrounded by a mass of willow sticks. I think part of my garden planning needs to involve winter colour.

I spent some of Saturday in the garden, taming the willow hedge, checking on the seeds in the mini greenhouses, and tidying up this and that. There’s not much to do at this time of year in my tiny garden, but I gathered leaves from the street and thought about what will go where next year.

As I pottered about, the light changed, and I was treated to a most glorious sunset, right from my own front door.

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