Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower

Albert Camus - nothing to do with South Yorkshire, where we've been this weekend to see my brother and his family. We were all absolutely shattered after a long and arduous week and it hasn't been the relaxing weekend we probably needed. Still, getting a fix of Little Red, my niece, has recharged my batteries. She's talking now, mostly "No!", admittedly, but the gaps between the times I see her make each milestone look like a big leap.

It's not fair, they have Autumn in South Yorkshire. We moved swiftly from Summer to Winter last week.



J and P dwarfed by an acer in the most amazing shades in Autumn



Blurry action shot of squirrel who has just chased another squirrel around the tree.



Leaves just waiting to be kicked up into the air.



A rather beautiful reminder of the hideous purpose of the bearpit.

We drove over to Sheffield, to the Botanical Gardens and I made up for it by kicking leaves up in a way that embarrassed most of the rest of the party.

They have finished restoring the glasshouses and have divided them up into different world zones. We were taken by this Hymalayan Cypress.



I'm dismayed to find that even the moderate amount of walking and sitting in the car for a couple of hours has made me seize up so badly this evening. Bloody fibro....sassenfrassendickdastardly fibro!

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I finished my Road to Socialism socks.



And cast on a Curly Wurly scarf in Lorna's Laces Shepherd Worsted in the Irvine Park colourway.



There are 700 stitches on the needles!!!!! Bring on the decrease rows.