Sunday 22 September 2013

The year is turning.

As promised, I'm not blogging about voice any more. But there's an interesting discussion in the comments after my last post for anyone wanting to see Trish Nicholson and I grappling with it.

And now, on to lighter things.

It seems we've had our summer. All those lovely warm days, sitting in the garden with the hum of bees for company, skin smothered with sun block, book on my knee. For once we had some real weather - and wonderful it was too.

But now the lights are on before seven in the evening. My sandals are back in the wardrobe. T-shirts are hidden under fleeces and cardigans excavated from the dust in my drawers. Firewood for my woodburner is heaped by the back door. The garden is looking ragged - it needs me to take serious secateurs to the bushes, even a saw to the bigger shrubs. The man who wields the loppers will visit and my compost will overflow. (I no longer do anything that involves standing on ladders in the garden. I've been stuck in a shrub once - it was funny the first time...) I'll stand by the incinerator for a few hours and come back to the house smelling as I used to after visiting the protesters at Greenham Common.

The house is chilly - for now I'll turn to vests and fleeces but before long I'll give in and turn the heating on. The radiators will click and the rooms will warm and I'll close the curtains against the cold and the rain and the dark. I'll light the woodburner - and there is comfort in the flames.

And then - I'll turn to my Lonely Planets. For this is the time of year when my thoughts turn towards your freezing days of January. My flight to Cuba is booked. I have a hotel in Havana for the first few nights. I shall read Dervla Murphy and Graham Greene and, as my fire flickers and the wind howls, my mind will be in the warmth, the sunshine, and my body will sway to the music. There are worse ways to hibernate.


17 comments:

  1. Ooh this is so evocative...as mown grass is the smell of summer, bonfires are the smell of autumn...and what a lovely picture you paint. Looking forward to following you on the Cuba prep and trip.. (written with chilblained fingers & wrapped in warm dressing gown!)

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    1. Oh Carol - if I hear of magic chilblain cure I'll send it your way!

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  2. brilliant post! I've loved the summer too...adn find that as I get older the threat of winter makes me feel rather sad. January and February are both the cruellest months for me...but this year, I/m off to Thailand in mid Jan...so hurrah!
    I'm sure you'll ahve a great time in Cuba....

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    1. How fab - we'll both be in hot places when everyone is freezing (must try not to be too smug?)

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  3. Even in Jerusalem the seasons are changing. Rain has fallen and we've had to turn on the water heater because the solar panel isn't getting enough raw material. I'm still wearing shorts and a tee shirt, but your wonderful description helps me to feel the change that hasn't quite reached us yet.

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    1. We'll blow the cold your way soon enough, Miriam - enjoy the warmth while you can.

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  4. Oh Jo, you make me feel England in Autumn, and the poignancy of a year coming to a close. I already have my heating on a bit. Sounds awful, but I cannot bear the cold. I dream of cruising on the canal du midi at this time of year…that's what floats my boat so to speak.

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    1. Can't bear the cold either, Val - hence hot trips in winter!

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  5. And so the world turns - here in the antipodes, we are putting away the fleeces, washing and storing the woollens, the leftover firewood has gone back into the shed, and the short period of spring sees blossoms everywhere. In a few days we will have the first burning days of summer - bringing on the sunscreen, the hats, the sandals ... and maybe the beach! Enjoy the Autumn, my favourite season.

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    1. I was in Oz in October - when the bottle brush and jacaranda were out. One day I must go back ... when it's freezing here!

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  6. Something rather nice about that time, specially if there are interesting things to look forward to. I like to think of planting roses when it gets around to November. Just a little link with June!

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  7. Something rather nice about that time, specially if there are interesting things to look forward to. I like to think of planting roses when it gets around to November. Just a little link with June!

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    1. I like autumn once it gets going, but at the turn of the season I want to hang onto summer for as long as possible!

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  8. Hurray! You're going to Cuba. I'm so glad to hear that you've got something on the books. Fall and winter are so much better when there's a trip to look forward to.

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    1. I'm so rubbish at winter - planning a trip someone warm it what makes it manageable!

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  9. I hope you post on your blog when you're in Cuba. I want to share in your experiences.

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    1. Indeed I will, Karen - though it might not be regular, as internet access is (I hear) a challenge over there.

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