This time last year we had already fled down to the cottage in search of warmth and comfort.
This year, we are still in our draughty old house, relishing the mild November days, leaving the kitchen door on to the veranda open so that the dogs can wander in and out at will. We sit outside, tea mugs in hand, faces turned to the sun. Too hot as I dig over a new bed where more roses will go, I strip off my sweater. The tomatoes on the vines behind the pool house continue to ripen and each morning there is a fresh flood of bright blue morning glory on the pergola at the back of the cottage.
These mellow November days are a gentle antidote to the fear and uncertainty around the world economic situation. Long may they continue.