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.
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