When the grass is jewelled

Autumn Days, by Estelle White, is one of my favourite songs from school. We still sing it at our school around harvest time. I'm sure it means much more to the staff than to our children, whose concept of Autumn in general, and harvest in particular, is very different.

Autumn days, when the grass is jewelled
And the silk in a chestnut shell
Jet planes meeting in the air to be refuelled
All these things I love so well

So I mustn't forget
No, I mustn't forget
To say a great big thank you
No, I mustn't forget.

Clouds that look like familiar faces
And winter's moon with frosted rings
Smell of bacon as I fasten up my laces
And the milkman sings.

Whipped-up spray that is rainbow-scattered
And a swallow curving in the sky
Shoes go comfy though they're worn out and they're battered
And the taste of apple pie.

Scent of gardens when the rain's been falling
And a minnow darting down a stream
Picked-up engine that's been stuttering and stalling
And a win for my home team

We had J's 10 year old granddaughter stay for a couple of days over the weekend. We don't get to see her very often, so it was nice, but mentally tiring. She's very much an urban kid so we thought she might like to do something a bit different. I took her to the farmers' market on Saturday morning. Muddy vegetables and real meat are 'disgusting', apparently. On Saturday afternoon we drove out into the dales, which were 'smelly' and 'boring'. Came back via Carlton in Cleveland to show her the view of Teesside from the hills and she wouldn't even get out of the car.
Oh, well. We tried.

We thought the view was worth it. We were under a cloud but Teesside, in the distance, was sunny as ever :)



Anyway, North Yorkshire is changing colour and the purples are fading to browns. The bracken is really tall and you have to take great care on the minor roads in case hordes of suicidal grouse and pheasant throw themselves under your wheels.



Autumn is coming to the garden too. This dwarf acer palmatum is starting to come into its own.



My SockWars sock is somewhere between Teesside and New Orleans ( I haven't heard anything about its arrival yet) and my International Scarf Exchange scarf package is enroute to Alabama. So, while I'm waiting for Secret Pal 9 to begin, I'm knitting socks for me, for pleasure. It is a pleasure too. I'm using the Socks that Rock merino that blogless Michelle sent me in my ISE package. It's gorgeous yarn to use and the colours are beautiful. This picture doesn't really do justice to it.