With the change of season comes a change in our exercise routine. My band is on the run again. As much as I hate dragging myself out of bed at the crack of dawn, the tranquility and beauty of the hills, save the sound of the chasse bells jingling on the dogs’ collars, is worth the rude awakening. I was surprised that I had stayed as fit as was pre-summer but I have the pool to thank for that – Alice, on the other hand, lasted about 5 kms before she laid down and refused to move. Fat lump that she is. Mind you, she’s a game girl and after she got her breath back, plowed on with Arry and Sherman. Arry, of course, loved being out and about once again, tearing through the undergrowth and chasing a neighbour’s cat through several gardens until I managed to grab him. I don’t know why I thought that him turning another year older in the summer would teach him any obedience when it comes to felines.
Whilst the day temperatures are still in the mid-20’s, there comes a point when you know you aren’t going to get in the pool again this year so we’ve put the winter bâche on. Frankly, whilst the water may have looked appealing, the thermometer reading wasn’t. Having had five months of wonderful poolness, it’s odd to see the thing all tucked up until next Spring. Still, the rains have started so it won’t be long before Denis and I can start planting our next project – the potager or vegetable garden. Darling Denis made short work of clearing the area I had chosen, apparently we are going to have a Moroccan inspired plot – Denis’ words, not mine. With so much work to do both on the house and the terrain, I’ve made lists for everyone. I like lists, thankfully so does Denis.
I dug out the ‘winter wardrobe’ this week. As has become my custom, anything I haven’t worn over the summer gets either thrown in the recycle bin or sold. The same goes for my cold weather clothing, I definitely need to go shopping as the number of jumpers I had packed away wouldn’t fill a drawer. Shorts and any surviving bikinis have taken their place in the suitcase although I’m still wearing my flip flops – some things you just don’t want to give up just yet.
My Callum turned 24 on Wednesday. I can’t help thinking how grown up he looks in the photos he sends me or the sound of his voice on the phone. He’s still loving Australia and working all hours of the day but has bought a campervan so he can travel South next month. It’s funny to think that he is heading into summer down there just as I am thinking about asking Max the chauffagiste to get the houses ready for winter up here. Autumn is my favourite season though, as the vines start to change colour and the early morning chill makes the air seem fresher somehow. I probably won’t be saying the same thing when I’m welly deep in mud and the house stinks of soggy dog but I’m looking forward to planting the potager. And whilst Denis is thinking tomatoes and melons, I’ll be thinking apples and pumpkins…….
“If a year was tucked inside of a clock, then autumn would be the magic hour.” (Victoria Erickson)
Widow plus woofs 