We are definitely well into autumn now. It's not just in the quality of the light, or the smell in the air but in the little things, like the rumbling hum of the central heating clicking on first thing in the morning, and the fact that the butter is now hard. I've been looking back and trying to work out exactly where the year has gone.
I was trying to arrange a Sunday lunch date with a friend recently and she laughingly said that all her weekends were busy between now and Christmas. Is this true of many people? Or are D and I just desperately anti-social? We tend to pass our weekends quietly; reading, sleeping, spending time to prepare nice meals, generally just collecting ourselves for the week ahead. Later on today, I am going to turn a bag of windfalls into apple butter and perhaps do some baking. Maybe have a bath while listening to Desert Island Discs on iPlayer.
In the words of the carol (and, let's face it, it is never too early to start thinking about the C word) all is calm. Long may it last.