Monday 25 October

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Autumn is very soft this year. There seems to be no dramatic moment of arrival and this is beech country, and beeches stay green longer than most. The profile of the hill is mixed woodland and it has taken on a dappled, tweedy sort of shade. The mossy sort of colour where green and brown meet.

Tuesday 26 October

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The season has felt a long one. We have moved beds and laid new paths and I have grown more dahlias and sweet peas than ever. I am not the tidiest of people at the best of times and the field usually bears witness to this. There are pots scattered, either abandoned after I planted out their contents or because I put them in a place for planting and changed my mind. I spend longer than you can imagine trying to find my hoe or my trowel in a working day. Today I declared it the end of season tidy. Naomi and I collect and clear and wash and chip and it is immensely satisfying. Also, I cannot tell you how many slugs I found under discarded pots; this alone was a lesson to me to be more diligent with tidying up in the future. It won’t be the end of the season properly until the dahlias are up* and the tulips are in.

*I am only lifting because I am moving them out of the Dyeing Garden. Usually I would leave in and mulch.

Wednesday 25 October

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Race day. The hedges along the Corfe Road that runs between Taunton and Honiton are often trimmed especially neatly. Particularly the ones that separate the road from the sweeping green of the racecourse. If the television cameras are going to be pointed at them, they are surely going to be beautifully shaped. The benefit of this is that you drive parallel to the racing horses and, if you time it absolutely perfectly, the hedges are low enough to feel like you are part of a thundering herd of galloping horses.

Thursday 26 October

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It seems to be a week of horses. I drive to Hemyock, a village just the other side of the border in Devon. A road closure knocks me off course on the way home and I wind up through the other side of the Blackdowns. Culmstock. Culm Davey. Lanes of potholes and trees that meet overhead. As I come to the top, the road is suddenly full of swarming hounds and the clatter of snorting horses. I have accidentally come across the hunt and it is glorious. No glamour on a weekday hunt, it is all mud and waxed cotton riding jackets and second best boots. I turn off the engine and the hounds and horses flow past me on either side, like a rock in a stream.

Please note: I do not support or condone any form of hunting of animals. It is my understanding that Taunton Vale Foxhounds trail hunt. Although even since writing this, I have learned via the furore around their AGM, that the National Trust have just voted to ban trail hunting because of the damage to biodiversity and to wildlife habitats. Obviously, I am not condoning that either.

Friday 27 October

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Glowering skies. Rowena of Red Ruby Rose has been achieving incredible orange shades with hawthorn leaves and I am itching to have a go. Being me, I really want to start with an orange double duvet cover inspired by the one in Saipua’s cabin, but common sense prevails, and I pick enough for a tablecloth.

Saturday 30 October

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A delivery to be excited about. From Jacques Armand, as many Dom Pedro tulips bulbs as I can get my hands on. As above, I won’t be planting them until it is cold. For now, it is just enough to have them here. (If you are growing narcissi, feel free to get them in, it is only tulips that need the frost.)

Sunday 31 October

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The clocks change and the heavens open. A morning of solid rain that clears to a blustery blue sky day. No mention of Halloween here; I am too busy planning Christmas. There are a lot of sweet peas to be packed.