Read my columns each month in Cardiff Life Magazine
Autumn is my favourite season. It is the beautiful season. It is the season blessed with the most indulgent of colour schemes. However, it is also fated as the season before the ‘jolly’ one and our anticipation for snow, sleighs and snuggling by the fire in motif Christmas jumpers and big woolly socks more often than not succeeds in upstaging the months that precede it.
The writer George Eliot had the right idea when she declared autumn ‘delicious’ and said ‘my very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.’ Boy, they knew how to express themselves in the nineteenth century, didn’t they?
What has brought on this sudden seasonal sales pitch, I hear you ask? No, I have not been visited by Vertumnus (he’s the Roman God of seasons in case you hadn’t googled mythology recently). Rather, I’ve been plagued by many a social media comment ushering in Santa long before – in my opinion – his scripted entry. One of my friends thought it necessary to mark the 100-day countdown and another to post their first purchase of mince pies (you know exactly who you are!). The latter not a difficult feat of course, when there are already several festive aisles creeping into most of our supermarkets/garden centres/department stores…