All Hallow's Eve

Well my dears, the day did begin most auspiciously with a fine mist withdrawing as night faded, like long tendril fingers through the trees, to reveal a dark and still day, heavy with a moist dank air, redolent of fallen leaves. Such a fine setting for All Hallow's Eve. The trees and hedges are shedding their blazing finery to reveal the bare branches of winter time. Oh how joyous to watch this fine setting unfurl before us from the comfort of a warm bed, snugged most delightfully betwixt my male and female guardians. Bliss, dear friends, sheer bliss.

Once again the air will be fragranced with the spicy aroma of gingerdead men, pumpkins carved and suitable veneration undertaken for past souls and loved ones, with special time spent on thoughts of my brother, for ne'er a brighter soul could one have hoped for and he will be shining brightly this eve, I am sure. This day does also bring the end of summer and light, the harvest completed, moving on t'ward winter. How we do enjoy the seasons and traditions. We do hope you enjoy your Hallow's merriment but do not forget to respect them too, after all it is their day and no end of mischief may ensue.

Ginger dead men and minted hotpot

What a positively exhausting day it has been dear readers, exhausting. My male guardian did rise early and took the carriage to tend to the sick as his work requires. My lady guardian took the opportunity to catch up with the many tasks that ensure the smooth running of our little estate. Firstly however, clad in sturdy wellingtons, she did pay her respects to my darling brother; flowers refreshed and a morning cup of tea partaken whilst enjoying fond memories. Thereafter, seized by the brisk nature of the weather and clear autumn sky, laundry flapped upon the washing line, floors swept, and perhaps the most joyous task of the day undertaken, the making of ginger dead men in preparation for All Hallows' eve. Why our dear home was redolent with the spicy and warming aroma of baking, so tantalising. Once cooled the joyous task of icing little skeletons upon the biscuits began. The simple pleasure this did elicit and much fun too. All left to set whilst a most warming of dishes, minted hotpot, was prepared. Not only is this dish tasty and nutritious, but also excellent in preparation for a late return tomorrow evening, for sufficient is prepared for two days suppers. My lady guardian does declare that the second serving is all the more tasty for being a day old. A most comforting dish, my dears, for dusk did fall at five o'clock this day, with drapes drawn and lanterns lit to prepare the home for my male guardians return. 

Autumnal splendour.

Well, dear friends, are we not quite the most fortunate of people? The countryside has been transformed in to the most beguiling of paintings on our very own doorstep. The dazzling array of colours that greets one as we pull back the drapes these last last few mornings has been most becoming. The fields have been ploughed and the Autumn rain this very morn has turned the fields into sections of piped and glistening chocolate as the warm sun caresses them. Each field is bordered by country hedges that present a spectrum of colours through deepest glistening green of the holly leaf, and yellows, orange, gold and red of beech, field maple and more, with accents of red, black and burgundy from holly berries, sloes and the finest of blackberries.  If one is lucky, one can still squirrel out the odd filbert. Huge tree tunnels present frames for breathtaking countryside vistas that are peaceful and calming. Autumn winds blow and the somnambulant summer is chased further away. Pheasants abound along country lanes and great care is required when outward bound in the carriage.

My lady guardian, with her sister, did take the carriage this very morning, bound for a most delightful small town on Exmoor; small but perfectly formed with quite the right balance of artisan and necessary establishments to make it thus self sufficient. A most enjoyable morning was had with the journey outward and homeward bound admired by each sister, country dwellers both. My lady guardian finds the English country side beauteous and calming, sanctuary from the hurly burly of every day life.

As we write this missive, the sun is disappearing behind the landscape, chasing shadows across the fields; the air begins to cool and we are preparing for the freshness of the night to creep in as the shadows lengthen. The end of British summer time and the clocks fall back one hour this night. The joy of an extra hour's rest ensconced in a warm and comfortable bed, the breeze through the window redolent of log fires and Autumn. We are blessed indeed with these simple pleasures.

Dear to my brother's heart....

Dear to my brother's heart were warmth, comfort and regular meals. Our small family of three have kept true to his maxim by beginning the preparations for autumn and winter. The larder is full of the gardens bounteous produce in the form of pickles, preserves and jams; the process of making sloe gin has begun, the cold box in the garage has been packed with the most delicious of concoctions, as well as a glut of pears, some apples and more. The chimney is swept in preparation, all manner of laundering undertaken and the last few days of truly warm weather allowed to blow its warmth through our home before we begin the slow but steady onslaught of autumn and winter weather. The nights have begun to draw in and the windows are shuttered for the night as early as seven o'clock.

The garden has truly taken on the air of autumn, with early mists and the smell of autumn leaves and bonfires. My guardians have cleared an overgrown bed in the front garden in preparation for newer planting. My brother's grave is beautifully tended and I spend time daily appraising him of our endeavours for I am sure he keeps a watchful eye upon our efforts and, one can only hope, wholeheartedly approves.