There’s no denying it. Summer is over. Done. Dusted. The sun is low and the air is turning crisp. Which does have a certain allure. But chill will be the default setting for the next 6 months. And let’s just say, the cold really bothers me. Which is not good.
There are some good things about the cooler months – the ability to wear opaque tights, which both ladder less easily and hold the calf and thigh wobble better for a start. But there are many many other reasons to lament the arrival of shorter days. Which include:
• The Cocoon Warmth of a Duvet
I know, surely being wrapped in a snug duvet is one of the best things about the cooler months?! I agree – it’s bliss. But since we’ve not evolved into bears* we can’t stay huddled inside all winter. Yet there the duvet is, embracing us in its downy warmth, giving us no inclination to get out of bed. Which means just getting up is a chore, thus the duvet is turned into the enemy.
(*Btw, if there is such a thing as reincarnation, next time round I’d like to come back as a bear. Surely the best animal to be, ever. 1) You get to sleep all winter and wake up skinny. 2) You have a diet of salmon…and picnics. 3) Everyone expects you to have a raging temper. What’s not to like?!)
The eight-legged freaks are EVERYWHERE! Yesterday Boo ran to Husband to report a damn great spider in the kitchen only for him to then point out another just hanging out on the wall behind her! Cue much screaming.
Plus the one in the kitchen managed to avoid death-by-rolled-up-newspaper, so is probably summoning it’s own spider army to exact its revenge. Bastards.
Yet more insect-based hideousness. And these ones will just fly into your face with their spindly legs flailing everywhere. The Kamikaze pilots of the bug world, probably deployed by the evil spiders.
• Discovering There’s a Hole in Your Boot.
Boots are an autumn bonus. Gorgeous, calf-covering leather. Crunching through piles of leaves in them momentarily turns life into a real-life TV ad…
…Until, that is, you discover a hole in one. Which happens only when a) it rains or b) you tread in a steaming dog turd hidden by the dry leaves you were crunching through. (True story.)
• The Search for New Boots and the Perfect Winter Coat
Too many choices. And the perfect option is always over budget. Buy cheap though and you risk the hole + dog poo situation. Buy expensive and you WILL be found out as the bags are too bulky to sneak into the house without detection.
• Transitional Dressing
In theory, autumn wardrobe updates are gorgeous. Knitwear, heavier fabrics accessorised with scarves, the ease of looking good just by having a gorgeous coat (if you do mange to find one).
But knitwear makes me itch. I’ve never really mastered the art of scarf-tying. And I always misjudge when I need to coat and when I don’t, thus always managing to be inappropriately dressed.
• Comfort Food
Yummy. You can’t beat some stodgy as the weather turns colder. Plus you can kid yourself that you’ve not laid down excess fat so much as overdosed on layering on clothes. (Just don’t go anywhere near the scales.)
But the real swine is potatoes, specifically having to peel them in abundance. Much as I love shepherd’s pie, or creamy mash or corned beef hash, I hate peeling potatoes. Boring, messy and I always manage to grate my knuckles.
• Don’t Mention the C-Word!
No sooner has the suntan lotion been cleared from the shops’ shelves than you spot the first sign of Christmas. The countdown is on. Which is annoying at first, because it’s only freakin’ September. Then you get complacent. Festive decorations take hold, but it starts to merge into the background since, hey, it’s been out since September and that was only a minute ago. And then the next thing it’s a week before Christmas, you’re low on money and can’t find the present you really need, which everyone else bought back in September!!! How did THAT happen?! By stealth, I tell you, which is why Christmas really shouldn’t start in the autumn.
And thus autumn is, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst season of all. At least Strictly Come Dancing is back. But until it signals the start of my personal hibernation I certainly shan’t fall for Fall.