Tag: autumn

How did you use that extra hour?

It’s the day after the clocks went back and it’s one of those Sundays that seems to have gone on and on.

I was up early and did all the ironing, fed the dogs, order a dog harness, water bowl, poo bags and three motion sensor lights for the landing, made a pot of tea, scored eight on my daily popquiz – Popquizza.com – and finished an episode of The Rest Is Politics US before the clock showed seven-fifteen.

By eight o’clock, I’d walked the dogs and was ready for breakfast.

I’ve managed to tick loads of things off my to-do list, although by three o’clock this afternoon I was flagging and the dogs were doing circles because they were so hungry.

Mr Grigg has dug up four lots of leggy lavender for me to replace, and there is more planting to come.

I’ve also gone mad with the bulbs again, ordering with gay abandon from Farmer Gracy and then bricking it when a massive box the size of Matabeleland arrived on the doorstep with a smug look on its face.

It’s half term in Dorset this coming week but no doubt the weather will be dreadful, so the chance of me finding room for 90 narcissi bulbs is pretty remote.

Two years ago, I ordered so many tulips I had to enlist the support of Number One Son and the tiny grandson who waddled around in dear little wellies and was armed with a lethal dibber.

We managed to plant them all but, of course, I was away when they flowered, so I missed the lot.

With just five days of October left, it’s been a busy month.

And now the nights are darker, it’s time for slowly simmered stews, log fires and a ridiculous binge on all four series of Stranger Things to remind myself of the plot and premise before the new one drops at the end of November.

I’m going to try to pull my socks up and blog at least twice a week, but as my late mother used to say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

That’s about it.

Maddie x

The autumn equinox

It’s the autumn equinox, the time of year that looks ahead to the dark days and nights of winter, and glances back, just a little bit wistfully, to the glory days of June, July and August.

Here in the northern hemisphere, it’s the last day of summer – autumn has finally arrived. For friends and family in the southern hemisphere, it’s reversed, so it’s the first day of spring.

Confusingly though, for meteorologists, autumn begins on 1 September, making the autumn months September, October and November.

On the equinox, day and night are roughly 12 hours long.

In the agricultural calendar, we have to wait until Michaelmas – 29 September – for the quarter day.

Years ago, a traditional meal for Michaelmas was goose, raised in the stubble fields. If you were a tenant farmer, you might have given the goose to your landlord. Which is a shame, because you, being poor, probably needed it more than them, being rich and powerful.

Still, it was ever thus.

But whatever you do, don’t pick blackberries after Michaelmas because apparently it’s the day the Devil spits on them.

Whatever, whenever, the equinox marks that turning point of the seasons.

School has started, university freshers’ weeks are upon us and it’s a time of change.

Short sleeves and flimsy linen dresses are put back in the cupboard, but within easy reach should we get an Indian Summer in October, and the DM Chelsea boots are given a spit and polish and you thank goodness that years ago you bought the ones with zips now that you’re finding it ever harder to pull them onto your feet.

It’s a time of discovery, when you find you actually do have more coats and jackets than there are days of the week and, in actual fact, they’re not bad, not bad at all.

It’s a time to top up the wood pile, order the heating oil and start knitting again.

Cosy nights in, stews that stick to your ribs and cocoa instead of coffee.

Watching some brilliant drama – old favourites like the latest series of Slow Horses, due any moment now, and the finale of Stranger Things, where the child actors are now grown up but the story is still (I hope) as gripping, and then new shows too, which will unfold as the months unfurl.

Curling up with a good book without feeling guilty about it, and leaving the garden a bit overgrown for the wildlife, ready to attack it properly at a much later date.

And enjoying the wonderful spectacles of the night sky.

I don’t know about you, but I like the autumn equinox.