An Autumn Weekend

It looks like autumn is well and truly here. Only the weekend before the one just gone we were sitting on a sunny beach; just over a week on and it's coats, scarves and a craving for porridge in the mornings. I love autumn; crisp days, the scent of bonfires in the air, a new wave of seasonal foods from soups and stews to proper puddings with custard, winter clothes (so much more forgiving to wear), log fires, Sunday roasts and the excitement that Christmas is not so far away.

This weekend we firmly marked autumn's arrival by 'putting the central heating on'. It's a big thing in our house, flicking that switch. House rules state that the central heating can be turned on no earlier than October 1st and must be off by April 1st. Modern climate change has yet to be taken into account with this rule. This is David's rule, of course not mine. Growing up, my dad had a similar one; must be some kind of 'man' thing about not wanting to 'give in too early' to the heating.

The first thing David said to me in my slumber on Friday wasn't 'good morning my love, did you sleep soundly / can I get you a cuppa?', no it was 'the central heating has come on!' His voice had an element of panic to it. If the house gets cold enough, below a certain temperature, the central heating will automatically click on. Good old central heating. I stuck my leg out from under the duvet and touched the radiator with my toes; it was only tepid, but on all the same which made me smile. I love central heating you see. I was in for further delight when I took my morning shower. The towel on the radiator was warm and toasty. Simple stuff but it made me happy. So without too much reluctance it was officially turned on at the weekend. Toasty days are ahead.
 

On Sunday we went with the kids for walk in Hove Park. It looked really stunning in all its autumn glory. I've attached some of the pictures I took to this post. Don't you think the trees look beautiful? All in all our first proper autumn weekend.

Walking

I pretty much walk everywhere. I like it as a mode of transport, which is just as well as I don't drive. Since Lily has changed schools I now walk her to and from school; it's a brisk 25 minute walk each way. Fellow parents congratulate me on it. When I walk down the road neighbours remark how much I walk.

I really don't see the amount of walking I do as that excessive. A typical day starts with walking Lily to school (25mins), then I walk from school to work (25mins). After my morning at work, I walk from work to playschool to collect Arthur (15mins) and then back home (10mins) for lunch. Then come 3 p.m. we off again to collect Lily fro school (a 50 min round trip). I also make frequent trips and detours into town for the supermarket or the library. Add that up and on a good day I may spend 3.5 hours walking somewhere or other. It adds up doesn't it? I guess one of the reasons people drive is the time it saves. I am always strapped for time.

But if I did drive, think of what I'd miss. What kind of shape would my legs be without all that walking? Would I notice the changing of seasons quite so much? Would I have noticed the beautiful Peonies that flower every summer in a garden I pass on my way into town? Would I have as many opportunities to exchange pleasantries with my neighbours? No, I wouldn't. 

Walking is good for the kids too. They've never known any different and gladly walk for miles. The school run is mine and Lily's time to chat about this n' that. Arthur knows the various points on our walking routes where he might expect to meet a cat too; there are a couple of friendly felines that can often be found outside the music shop that we pass, as well as in the gardens of some of the houses we go by on our route. He's also starting to point out house numbers. Number '8' is his current favourite.

Run this blog post by me in the depths of winter and I'll probably be making noises about wishing I could drive. But I'm happier on the pavement. Walking gives me time, a chance to breath, think and get my mind in order for the next part of the day.