Autumn's Fall

Despite the constant hum of my air conditioner over the last week suggesting otherwise, it's somehow already the middle of Autumn. The Show has been and gone and we're planning this weekend's Easter menu (Scallops and Salmon on Friday and Greek lamb feast for Sunday).

Most years, I celebrate the start of March and revel in the changes in the garden. I'm usually buzzing about picking herbs to dry, preserving produce, planting brassica. Red wine in hand on a crispy night is my absolute jam, but this year Autumn in the garden is not sparking the usual joy and feels like just. another. thing. to add to the list.

As always, there are jobs to do but the olives that need brining are sitting in a bucket filled with rain and the now gargantuan cucumbers are yellowing on the vine. It feels a lot like I just can't be bothered. I'm weary. The whole world is weary.

Instead, there's a one year old to pull off whatever cabinet he's climbed upon and thousands of rapid fire questions to answer that come from a four year old with an intensely inquisitive mind. Tempers and patience seem to match the shorter days. We need to get outside.

And so, this morning, pyjama clad, baby on hip and with a small gumboot wearing Napoleon leading the way, we wandered into the garden. There are two strawberries, one perfectly sweet and plump, one with a slug inside. Symbolic perhaps?

There's also magenta dahlias blooming in a forgotten corner, ample sage that I'll use for medicine during the winter months, and a garden bed with celeriac, garlic and leeks all thriving under dappled light. Soon, as the leaves of my favourite tree fall, they'll have full sun to boost their winter growth spurt. Boys unfurling, Mama's weighted shoulders loosening as we amble about. Glimpses of joy from being able to appreciate and gather without having to actually DO anything.

But of course, there's always things to do. There's grubby white tiles to mop, breakfast bowls to clear, and a pantry to reorganise; everything is a mess, it seems.

The decision has been made, dictated by the seasons- we'll embrace the malaise- even if just for today. With wee ones underfoot, it's a daily juxtaposition of chaos and sluggish endlessness. Bedtimes go on forever, but teeth appear suddenly, somehow making sense of what has been weeks of wild emotional weather. On this mid-Autumn day, we need a break.

Today, the tv can stay on and we'll eat ragu from the freezer. We'll let the impending winter gloom overwhelm us for a minute longer. Maybe I'll even have a bath and attempt to ignore the two wee boys standing beside the tub splashing me or more realistically, read for a little while once they're safely tucked in bed.

What's on the list?

• The Good Life by Hannah Maloney

• Urban Homesteads by Rebecca Gross

• Future Steading by Jade Miles

• Grown and Gathered by Matt and Lentil

Notice a theme? May as well prepare, Autumn is here. Tomorrow there's limes to juice and seeds to save. We're in a change of season.