Fall

Come autumn’s scathe — come winter’s cold —
Come change — and human fate!
The Autumn - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I know the Victorian Romantics aren't fashionable - but I like them. There's a rather stoical and understated understanding of the human condition that brooks no nonsense about the poetry: or at least the ones I'm drawn to.

I'm out of sorts. What I want to do is to go out onto a windswept hill and shout (just like Eustacia Vye, only not as glamorous or enigmatic, and I don't think she actually ever shouted). What I'm going to do is shovel soil into the last raised bed and spread manure until I ache. Both actions would have the same effect. The latter will produce a better outcome.

Good Things
Clean, ironed sheets
Tea in bed
Kneading dough
Egremont Russet apples (gifted - lucky us)