A is for Autumn

I rather like autumn.  I don’t enjoy getting wet feet, I don’t like seeing the end of summer colour, and I don’t look forward to the heating bills.  What I do enjoy is a season when being at home is a choice which I can make entirely guilt free.

In the summer I feel as if I ought to be doing something or going somewhere, in the winter I try and do a project.  And in the spring, I plan.  But autumn gives me permission to do absolutely nothing.  And I am very good at doing nothing.  When someone asks, "What are you doing today?" I can now answer, "watching the rain."

I rather like changing to my slobby autumn and winter clothes.  Sweatshirts which can be washed and don’t need ironing.  Thick comfortable tights.  Warm, lined skirts.  My warmer clothes will be delighted to be reunited with me.

Soon Jack will come and sort the garden to be left for the winter.  We’ll have the last of the tomatoes and beans and the one, single butternut squash. 

I’ve started to fill my freezer with lovely soups which will also be used to persuade Jack to come.  Porridge is back in business. Apples need using.

And evenings are glorious.  Curtains closed. A heated throw to snuggle up in.

And absolutely nowhere I need to be.   In fact, I can have a perfectly wonderful day without getting dressed properly. 

(I'm doing my usual "thing" to get back to regular blogging - an alphabet of post.  This series will all be about autumn.)