Monday 31 October. The clock change hits hard. The dark evening walk is full of pheasants and surprises. In amongst the flutter of the pheasants put up by the girls, the deeper beat of ducks lifting from the stream and into the air. Irish setters are finders rather than fetchers and they tend not to give chase, but enthusiastically circle back to wherever they initially put up their quarry and look for another one. This is helpful when they see a deer; they rarely chase it over the horizon and out range of my whistle, but sniff and quarter the ground where they first found it. There are only three male mallard ducks and they are gone in a blink of an eye. The girls pile into the stream to investigate their source and we all come home jolly wet. 

Tuesday 1 November. A morning spent with one of my favourite people, Becca of the Garden Gate Flower Company. There aren't many people with whom I properly chat but Becca is one of them. It takes three goes to start the recording because we keep going off track. On track is Christmas. I know, planning ahead, but I am getting everything ready for my favourite bit of Christmas, which is dressing the table.

Bud vases and Kenzans of sprigs of seasonal foliage, candles and linens. Our discussion ranges from clean, clear palettes of paper whites and plain church candles to a whole table of earthy ceramics and a runner of golden bracken.

Wednesday 2 November. A day of meeting wonderful people, firstly at the Lost Kitchen where we talked about rewinding the soul and I sketched out how flow states occur, then to Ashburton to talk about technical things. I manage to fit in a a flying visit to Catherine Waters Antiques in between. It really is a gorgeous shop and Catherine is a delightful person. It is only because I was only in the shop for six minutes that I managed not to buy a gorgeous little tub chair and some old French shelving that would have been perfect for storing seeds. 

 After a day of sitting in cafes and driving long distances, my body craves some movement. The old thatch is being removed and the bundled with baler twine and stacked at the front of the cottage. A rich and abundant source of carbon and I am not letting it go. The plan is for it to be layered in the old dahlia patch (the tubers have been lifted) and I lift and gather the big, wet bundles and wrestle them into the back of the truck and drive them to the field. 

A simple task. Physical but not arduous. Grounding. 

Thursday 3 November. The boot room is filling up with boxes and books. A delivery of envelopes, thousands of them. (I sell a lot of sweet peas at Christmas time.) Copies of Grow & Gather for the Christmas hampers. 

 The books are depleted after a visit from an ex-neighbour who comes for coffee and leaves with four signed copies, her Christmas shopping done unexpectedly at once. Pauline moved from the village but is drawn back by an invisible thread. She sends me a card to thank me for the books and for the reminder that the cottage's old walls radiate such peace and harmony. She can't help remarking that she doesn't miss the thatching bills though. 

Friday 4 November. A trip to Thyme in the Cotswolds to see The Land Gardeners and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. A full write up in Gather this morning (Sunday) but the elements bear repeating. Soil is life and if we aren't terribly careful, our abuse and neglect it will be the end of us.

One of my many, many strategies for supporting my soil is to shift my focus from annual cut flowers to perennials and I was thrilled to hear the rumour that guru Rachel Siegfried of Green & Gorgeous was writing a book all about perennials and woody plants  for cutting, and even more delighted when the rumour turned out to be true. The only downside is we have to wait until next March for it to be published.

A detour on the way home from Thyme to visit Burford Garden Centre. Have you been? Mind blown...

Saturday 5 November. The seed harvest is almost all in for the year. The only thing still to come are the mad tweedia pods. However, the seed is scattered about the house. Some dried, some of it drying. Envelopes, packages, glass jars and soup bowls. It is time to go round collecting everything up. Documenting and listing. Noticing and noting. The immense satisfaction of the seed fridge being filled. Beauty in cold storage.

Sunday 6 November. It is absolutely pouring with rain. I drink tea. I write. The sky finally clears and we walk as the full moon rises.