Hot as it’s been during the day lately, there’s a definite feel of autumn in the air. I’m scribbling this outside as, next to me, Rob scrats the apples for this year’s cider. I wish you could smell what I smell right now. It’s a mixture of apple juice and red wine – apples being pulverised and ripe grapes announcing they’re ready to be picked. I don’t know who loves it more: me or the wasps.
|Scratting the apples using his homemade apple torture device.|
The hill at the back of our garden is covered in crunchy leaves (we really must find time to rake them up this weekend). I’m beginning to crave stodgier food, and the butternut squash on the vine are constantly teasing me with all the squash lasagnes, risottos and soups that are to come. Every harvest from the tomatoes, chillies and courgettes feels like a last hurrah. We worship any remaining sign of colour in the flower garden.
|Chillies still going strong, but maybe not for much longer.|
Also, the neighbour has started laughing at Rob for wearing shorts instead of long trousers – always a sign that the season has definitely changed. (The locals being sticklers for dressing according to what the calendar says, not the actual temperature outside.) To be fair, though, it’s properly cold when we get up in the mornings. It’s almost time to pack away the flip flops I use as slippers in the summer, and dust off my serious fleece-lined slippers.
I think autumn is my favourite season. (Although, ask me again in July when I’m lazing next to a pool, or in May when a new gardening season is ramping up, and you’d probably get a different answer.) Maybe it’s because it always feels like we get a proper autumn here in Bulgaria. In England we only ever seemed to get two seasons: the cold wet season and the warm wet season. (Which reminds me of the guy in Las Vegas who told me Vegas also only had two seasons: the short-shorts season and the long-shorts season.)
Anyway, here’s to a good Bulgarian autumn … and homemade cider. Lots and lots of lovely homemade cider. It should be ready to drink around Halloween, so if I ‘go dark’ for several weeks in November, don’t worry. We’ll just be losing ourselves in cider.