
Autumn is a cruel mistress. Every year she promises an ‘Indian Summer’. I’m 39 years old and I’m yet to experience one. Instead, she teases us with warm breezes, occasional days of summer temperatures but always with a chilly breath and the hours of warmth are short and quickly gone. She tempts us with hopes of leaving the heating off until 1 October, and then lashes us with a frosty fury and laughs in the face of our extra layers. Just when we concede and stoke up the boiler, she suffocates us with sunshine. What a total and utter bitch she is.
But it’s game over now. Hopes of an Indian Summer are long gone. Blue skies and sunshine just mean cheerier days, not warmer ones. The heating is on, the boys are back in vests under their clothes and the tumble drier is being deployed once again. It’s hard to know who’s laughing harder, the electricity company or the oil supplier. Certainly it’s not the bank manager. Or my shoe budget for that matter.
Gazpacho is out. Hearty soups are in. Sandals are out. Boots are in. Clean floors are out. Filthy, muddy, wet floors are in. Good good.
I felt such a gloom a few days ago when, admitting defeat and putting an Autumn weight coat on, I realised how long the many months will be until that glorious day arrives, sometimes in Spring, when we’ll Go Out Without A Coat. I used to always love Autumn, but I think that Spring has become my favourite season as I’ve got older. Spring brings promise of good things to come. Autumn hints of the darkness of winter.
I am definitely in a funk. Partly related to the shorter days, the colder days, the greyness, the dampness and the mists. Partly related to the change in rhythm and pace that has been thrust at me with the dawning of the dreaded School Run. I’m astonished and appalled that I spend 10 hours or so doing The School Run a week. We live very near Bertie’s school, and Diggy’s nursery isn’t far away. But The School Run is a time thief. She’s a cruel mistress too, right up there with Autumn. Autumn and The School Run…both are total and utter bitches.
To add to the funk…Christmas is looming. The shops are full of useless tat and groaning with excess. I know I’ll have to go through a painful process of shopping/wrapping/posting/card writing/eating/drinking/being merry and, as I do every year, I’ll wonder what the hell it was all for and was it worth it. All the stress, the hassle, the angst, never mind the cost. I’d so SO love to be the brave one that says ENOUGH. Presents for children only. No cards, just a handwritten note to the people who really matter. A big family meal with both families and that’s that. I doubt I’ve got the courage though.
I hate the fact that Christmas feels like an endurance. I ‘do’ enjoy it at the time, but the lead up to it is torture. And I just can’t bear the sheer greed of it all, how January is generally considered to be a ‘lean’ month because we’re all suffering from the financial agony of Christmas. And we all deprive ourselves of food and drink, because we ate and drank too much at Christmas. Madness! January and February are the bleakest months of the year. We should be SPOILING ourselves, not depriving ourselves.
I was pondering on the spirit of Christmas and how we could ever, realistically, experience it. Let’s face it, Christmas is nothing more than a Hallmark occasion for many of us and I include myself in that. And then, at my darkest moment, 33 miners emerged from the belly of the earth in Chile. Against all the odds, despite all the challenges, up they came. One..by..one. The world held their breath, watched and waited and we all shared a little of the agony and a lot of the joy of the people involved. Up, up, up they came…and we all wept for the strength, courage, bravery and tenacity of the miners, their families and the rescue team.
Forget Christmas spirit, which is too narrow and divisive anyway. Let’s hear it for HUMAN SPIRIT which is surely the cure-all that we crave and need. If human spirit can sustain those 33 men and their supporters through their darkest days, and see them emerge with such poise, then I’m sure it can fight off the pettiness of the gloom of Autumn, the school run and Christmas. Up with Human Spirit! Down with the total and utter bitches. Ra…ra…ra.
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