Autumn in the air, it is only a tingling sense at the moment that winds itself around the nape of your neck and kisses it like a lover; there are promises of falling leaves, browning trees and the changing of weather from warm to cool to cold.



Winter is coming, even now as I dig a fresh bed, rake back the dead grass and the first fallen leaves, I can feel it snapping at my heels. There is often a feeling of everything being behind you at this time of year. The pumpkins I planted way back in June much have sensed that their best was behind them. Though they received a muck filled hole to call their own, they skipped the summer and went straight to winter. They have all died, yellowed, stunted and rotted in the ground. Little D stands beside me frantically chewing on raspberry fruit leather, his jumper a mosaic of red juice, spit and milk; my wife and I have given up trying to change his clothes. We have come to the conclusion that even if Little D was in a self contained plastic white room with no doors, windows, fridges or larders he would still end up smeared in food and mud. Sometimes with toddlers it is best to give into the mess and hope you can get them into bed clean at the end of the day, even if they wake up eating a chunk of mud and strawberries.