It is now definitely autumn. This morning I swopped the tilly hat for my fleece hat, as sun protection gave way to thermal insulation. We had what we thought was probably our last barbecued steak of the season on Monday evening, and have been muttering about how we could tidy up the study as we prepare to settle in there for the winter, and abandon the sitting room as too large and difficult to heat, except when we have guests.
I was shocked to discover how dry the dahlia pots were this morning. Although there is now much less heat in the sun, the gales of the past couple of days have ripped the moisture out of them. Some of this year's plantings were looking stressed as well, and a pink flowered deciduous azalea that is battling to survive under the birch trees. I may have that in the wrong place, but in the meantime I ran the hose on it for twenty minutes.
Now the afternoon seems to have disappeared. After lunch with my parents I went into Colchester hoping to find a pair of army surplus trousers for doing the gardening in. I kneel down a lot working in the garden, weeding and edging, as it tortures my back to stoop whereas my knees are fine. Consequently I go through trousers at a phenomenal rate, as they wear through at the knee. Always the left knee. My current pair were bought in a Lands' End sale, and lasted the summer but disintegrated just over a week ago. I ordered some new ones last week, but yesterday received a card saying they didn't actually have any more of those trousers left, which put me back to square one.
The Systems Administrator suggested trying army surplus trousers, on the grounds that they would probably be more rugged than most. This sounded a very good idea, but unfortunately my trawl around Colchester's tertiary shopping areas failed to produce any in my size. I tried on a pair in Troopers across the road from the town railway station that were too small, and all the others in stock would have been way too big. At least I now know what my size would be. The changing room at Troopers consists of a (possibly) disused lavatory with an extremely foetid smell, which the chap in the shop did apologise for, and although I am not generally shy about going into places, I was somewhere well outside my comfort zone trying on trousers in Troopers. I ended up buying a pair of discounted Peter Storm trousers in the Millets sale, which will in due course go the same way as the Lands' End ones have, but will keep me going for now. I could try those strap on knee protectors that some people use, but I am terrified of getting a stone trapped inside without noticing until I put my weight on it.
I had a very quick look at the new visual arts centre, or Firstsite as it is now called, but as I was in a car park where you have to decide in advance how long you are going to be, and buy a ticket accordingly, I didn't have time for a proper visit. First impression of Firstsite was that it reminded me faintly of the terminal at Stansted when that first opened, before it got busy. Nearly all the walls curve, so while there is quite a lot of interior space I'm not sure it will accommodate much actual art. I'll go and have a proper look when I've got more than seven minutes to spare. I hate car parks where you can't pay retrospectively according to how long your business has actually taken you, and only went to this one because the likely army trouser shops were at that end of town.
By the time I got home it was spitting with rain, and the Systems Administrator was peering at the sky and climbing up and down the scaffolding, trying to decide whether it was possible to do any more work on the house. Given the rain, and the limited time before it got dark, it didn't seem worthwhile changing into the Millets trousers and trying to do anything outside, so that's it until Tuesday.
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