Autumn has arrived with a riffling of brown, orange and navy cardigans heaped and hanging on the back of the front door.
And with the end of our garden tomatoes, and the yellowing bean vines drooping from the neighbour’s birch, change is afoot.
The sun has just dipped down behind our rooftop, and there is a golden patch of light hitting the back of my leg. I can’t work out where it’s coming from and look around me as I listen to Bryan as he tells me how he’s doing. It’s a phone call I’ve been waiting for; am relieved for.
Hello, hello! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?
Thanks for sticking around, if you’re still there…
I have a deliciously warming, simple, one-pot recipe for barley stew coming up, but before that, it’s cards-on-the-table time.
The sky is gun-metal grey, our living tree – Angus – is twinkling multi-colour in the living room, and I have an ever-growing pile of secrets under the bed.
Fa la la la la – Christmas is here!
The absolute best part of this time of year for me is all of the planning, preparing and looking-forward. The anticipation. The ticking-off of many lists, and the long moments inbetween: smelling the front door wreath, listening to the winter birds in the garden, eating chestnut cake for breakfast.
I don’t know about you, but I think I’ve reached that point in the year when it’s time to wind down. I’m tired. It’s cold. And it’s really dark.
Not that I’m complaining. I’m tired because I’m busy taking some big steps in my copywriting business, and I’ve just completed NaNoWriMo for the first time. I love walking in the winter cold and taking inspiration from the morning frost and mist. And the dark allows me to hunker down in the evenings with books, pens, ideas and tea.
But all of this does mean that my eyes are weary and I’m in search of warm and filling festive flavours. A hot bowl; something mulled maybe.
