Getting ready for autumn, by a winterphobe

Coping through the season of death and decay

I loathe autumn. Mainly because it’s the prelude to winter, which I loathe even more, but at least has the saving grace of ushering in spring (my favourite season) at the end of it. In and of itself, autumn isn’t as bad as winter, but during autumn there’s no end in sight, so that makes it just as bad, on balance. In fact, the incipient threat of autumn and winter can even blight the end of the summer: it’s usually around August that I start to feel the familiar clench of dread.

Basically, everything I like happens in spring and summer: the feeling of sun on bare legs, the smell of spring, the sound of pigeons on our chimneys, long hours of daylight, cold lager, barbecues, camping, Aperol Spritz, being a comfortable temperature without wearing a dozen layers, multi-day running-and-camping adventures, driving in daylight, salads, wildflowers, lambs, my hammock and my egg chair, wisteria.

Please don’t reply with rhapsodies about the autumnal colours of nature and the light and warm jumpers and stews and fires. Those leaves are changing colour because they’re DEAD. The light is different because it’s DYING. The jumpers and stews and fires are necessary to offset the FREEZING FUCKING COLD (and my kids won’t eat stew anyway, and jumpers just make me itch). It’s a godawful pair of seasons, in which everything is dying and decaying around us; in which there are only 6-7 hours of daylight to get anything done outside; in which there’s bloody Halloween, about which my kids have ridiculously high expectations which are never met, ending in much wailing and gnashing of teeth; in which I’m usually so cold that my body actually hurts; in which I have to wear thermals every day, which, by February, have made my skin dry and itchy; in which heating the house costs a small fortune; in which most of my runs have to be done in the wet, and/or the dark, and/or inside on a treadmill; in which everything in Yorkshire shuts between October and Easter; in which people inexplicably start to add sugar and spice (and CLOVES urgh) to things that tasted much better before; in which camping is no fun; in which I have to drive in the dark, which I HATE; and in which there’s bloody Christmas, which is just hell on earth - season of bloody dreadful music, a house full of dead pine needles and wrapping paper, and, as a solo mother with no wider family, immense amounts of work for one’s children with little-to-no personal gain. And it’s the season of some really painful death anniversaries. I may sound like I’m being melodramatic, but, well, it’s all true, innit. And most of this stuff can’t be ameliorated by a SAD lamp.

yes, yes, I know it’s pretty - but it’s not ENOUGH to mitigate the grimness of everything else

For the last two years, I’ve dealt with the grimness of autumn and winter by sodding off to South-East Asia for 4-6 weeks. Which is an effective solution, but expensive, and this year my kids have veto-ed going away, and are demanding a proper Yorkshire winter and Christmas. Eyeroll. So I’ve decided that I need some other ways of making autumn and winter bearable. Basically, I want to find some activities that either can ONLY be done in the cold, dark seasons; or are BEST done at those times; or which I reserve to do only at that time of year - so that there’s something to look forward to. I asked Twitter for suggestions, and, even though lots of these activities don’t personally appeal to me, I’m going to include them here anyway, in case they’re attractive to you lovely lot. I’ve realised that many of them fall into a category that could be labelled Activities Suitable for a Regency Lady - perhaps because the weather-induced confinement of British winter somewhat replicates the patriarchy-induced confinement of women.

Preparation Activities

While the weather and light are still good enough to do some woodwork and construction outdoors, I’m throwing myself into trying to create better spaces for being warm and comfortable during the colder months. Since P died, and my living room suddenly filled with people from the police, funeral services, mental health crisis teams, social services and so on, I’ve found it too painful to use the sitting room. But not having a sofa - somewhere to snuggle up with the kids and watch films, or read a book - has definitely made my winters worse, so this year I’ve decided to overhaul the sitting room and make it unrecognisable, so that I can use it again. I’ve moved all the books from elsewhere in the house into the sitting room, and I’m going to build a proper built-in library. I’ve made a start by building a window seat, which doubles as extra book storage. I’m also going to reupholster the sofa and buy a big rug, to add some texture and softness to the room.

I’m also going to tackle the dining room, which has a wood-burning stove in it and two small armchairs - so it’s potentially another nice space in which to curl up. I’ve removed the built-in bookcases from that room to create a bit more space (and the books are now in the sitting room-slash-library, and I’m going to repaint in a warm, dark colour, and will re-cover the armchairs there too.

Throughout the house, I’ve started dealing with the draughty old windows by buying some DIY secondary glazing. Because the house is Grade II listed, there are limits to what I can do to the windows, and last year I insulated by putting up Tesamoll thermal film, which is pretty cheap and dead easy - you stick double-sided tape (which comes included) around the window frame, and then attach the film to the tape, and use a hairdryer to shrink the tape so that it’s taut. It makes a big difference, but you have to remove the film to open or clean the windows, and you can slightly see the film. So this year, I’ve bought perspex secondary glazing, which comes with magnetic tape - you buy made-to-measure sheets of clear perspex, stick one side of the tape around the window frame, and the other side around the perspex, and then you can easily lift the glazing into place, and remove it again where necessary. It’s more expensive than the film - around £60-£100 per window, depending on the size - but so far I’m really impressed. The film isn’t reusable, so if you take it down in the summer, you have to purchase new film the following year - whereas the perspex glazing should last for years. Both the sound and heat insulating qualities are really good, and it also looks better than the film. I can barely see it in place.

I also want to turn the kids’ playroom into an art-and-craft room. This leads on to the next category of autumnal/winter activities.

Recreational Activities for Autumn and Winter

As I say above, many of these suggestions come from winter-lovers on Twitter and don’t personally appeal to me - but I’m adding them here in case someone else finds the suggestions useful:

Singing in a choir

Getting a dog and doing canicross

Knitting

Embroidery, cross-stitch etc

Dress-making

Upholstery

Crocheting

Weaving

Cooking

Hedge-laying

Helping to fix local paths

Stargazing

Tree-planting

Outdoor fires, toasting marshmallows, ‘smores

Whittling

Joining the WI

Cold-water dipping

Indoor swimming

Joining a local hobby group, eg. storytelling

Winter cross-country running league

Cyclocross

Winter skills outdoor course

A winter race - eg. The Spine Race

Evening classes (in-person or online)

Making scented candles

Indoor climbing

Photography

Bird-watching

Learning a new language

Golf

I live quite rurally, so the opportunities for in-person groups and courses are fairly limited. What I am going to do is try to revive some of my teenage love for drawing and painting. As I’ve said, I’m going to turn the kids’ playroom into an art-and-craft room (with their willing consent - they’ve grown out of most of the toys in the playroom anyway, and are enthusiastic about the prospect of an art room), and I’m going to do a refresher course (online) in basic art skills. Once I’ve reminded myself of the basics, I might even go along to an in-person class or course at the North Yorks Art School. Watch this space - I’m sure I’ll fill you all in on my DIY adventures, and my attempts to make autumn and winter feel less wretched.

I might also write another book. And do a jigsaw. And maybe I’ll do some proper piano playing again. One of my daughters has got quite into chess recently, so, even though it hurts my brain, I might give that a go.

Please do share your experiences in the comments. What do you do in the autumn and winter to make it bearable? What would you add to the list of wintery activities?