October 1st was the date that I was meant to be getting everything on the website for Christmas. This was a completely self-imposed deadline and doesn't really mean anything, so I suppose that is ok. However, it has been a busy week. As much as the year should be slowing down*, it should be all stews and socks and sofas, there a sense of rushing to get everything done before it is too late and I'll be honest, I can't fit it all in. The weather is positively filthy. The days are shortening rapidly. However, the vegetable plugs are almost all planted in their final beds. The hardy annuals are all sown. Monty Don said on GW that October is the time to be sowing meadows so at least I can give that another week.

*the dogs have fully embraced the change in the seasons and there are beds strewn all over the house, covered in snoring setters. Morag has her own chair.

24th September. So excited to be having a whole range of seeds for dyeing. Christine Lewis is educating me in the wonder of colours and dyes from flowers and has selected the range. I sit all day outside a Courtroom on a hard bench and lose myself in the magic of adding rusty nails to the dye pot, the unpredictable serendipity of yellows from lady's bedstraw, and the ancient names of woads, welds and dyers tickseed.

Photo by Christine Lewis.

September 25th. Rain. Rain and rain and rain. Wet dogs and the dahlias have mildew. But the cafe au laits have started to curl, which is one of the most beautiful things ever.

September 26th. A slower morning of soup and studio time. Packing orders and prepping boxes. The house is starting to fill up with boxes; boxes of seeds, boxes of envelopes, even boxes of boxes for the Christmas hampers. More boxes of hand dyed silk ribbon arrive.

September 27th. I post about Piggy Sue on instagram and nearly sell out within the hour. Apparently, there is a very limited supply in the world but my sweet pea seed supplier in Maldon saved the day and sent me some of theirs. I hide two packets in a box in case I get to Spring sowing time and find I have none left for me.

September 28th. Stormy weather. I brave some time in the kitchen garden and pull out the last of the tomatoes before I am driven in by the rain. I attempt some white-box product photography, which is harder than it looks. We abandon any idea of work for the evening and go for supper at Lyme Bay Cafe. The wind howls and the rain is horizontal. It is so dark that it isn't possible to see the sea even from close, but the waves can be felt. we sit by the kitchen in the light and warmth and feel glad to be safe.