Bashfully, the inexperienced Ostrogoth knocked on the door

We are still on the verge of Autumn.

The sunrise is later – so much so that most of our morning walk is is a sort of murky darkness (which is a little tricky as I have irritatingly sore eyes at the moment so have taken to walking around in a large pair of Topshop sunglasses to protect my eyeballs from the wind: as a result I can see virtually nothing – I wonder how Roy Orbison managed). Then, after two days of lashing rain we have warm sunny T-shirt days again. The leaves seem reluctant to leave the trees – perhaps we will have an unbelievably swift season with one frost and all the leaves falling at once.

Monday is Pilates day which tends to mess up the productiveness of the morning slightly. Pilates is in the town hall with my mother and a number of other ladies of similar vintage – I am the only male. It is all very gentle but a good way to start the week.

It has been one of those days which are very irritating to the self employed – lots of telephone calls that needed making, emails that needed sending but nobody in particular to invoice for the time – it seems a little churlish to invoice for five minute telephone calls: we are not lawyers after all.

Nevertheless many things were organised and I managed to go and talk to to an electrician who is lighting some yew buttresses for me. On the subject of electrics Tony Craddock at Louis Poulsen is definitely in my good books as he has sent me samples – a sort of seat/bollard called a Pagoda (that does not look at all like one), a glass dome called a Volcano (which has a strange pendulous reflection inside it) and a very clever glass disc called a Dot. All very lovely: now I just have to find a garden to house them.

I am listening to Going Back Home by Dr Feelgood and the picture is of the fecund hips of Rosa rugosa