Autumn colours

Isn't it odd how one has brief snapshots of memories which are pretty insignificant but which remain vivid? I remember walking along towards the university library one autumn morning when I was a student. The air was crisp and cold, and I felt invigorated and alive. I remember thinking that perhaps autumn was my favourite season. Nowadays, not so much, because I'm in the autumn of my life and - oh, you know, unfulfilled opportunities and all that.


However, if every autumn day were like today, I'd be fine with it. It was mild and sunny as we walked along by the golf course, and the leaves were crisp underfoot and there were berries and late flowers and there still seemed to be possibilities.

As usual, there were very few people on the golf course and as usual, I mused on the possibility of my becoming dictator of Scotland, in which case I'd turn all the golf courses into public parks. They're such lovely spaces and who wants to have to hit a little white ball while having a nice walk?

It's been a late autumn because it's been so mild, but at last the leaves are turning pretty colours.

I'm making Mr L a snuggling quilt incorporating engine / train fabrics. It's very simple - all squares, some of them quite big so that the engines aren't too chopped up - so the piecing shouldn't take very long (she said hopefully). However, I can't get much further until a fabric he's chosen arrives from Hong Kong. He's fussy about the accuracy of his engines.

A couple of the fabrics are from old shirts of his. Quilting is such an economical hobby. (Oh no, it's not.)