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I can definitely tell the weather's starting to turn; there's that hint of coolness in the air that starts in autumn. My house has windows that face southeast and northwest which means in the summer I get a lot of light coming in from the south in the morning, and this morning I'm noticing that while there's still a lot of light, there's not quite as much as there was.
Every year I always make a game out of trying not to put the heating on for as long as possible. We generally make it to about the beginning of November, but it's really hard to tell each year. I spent part of yesterday sorting out my winter clothes, in the hopes that having warmer things ready will help me delay the inevitable extra energy use. I have too many scarves & hats, so I culled a few store-bought ones that I don't care for as much, and took the opportunity to enjoy all over again the scarves & hats that have been knitted for me; there's just something so wonderful about seeing the work of someone's hands for you.
It really was quite a change, back in 2004, to move from Arizona to Texas to Scotland. Growing up, I can count on just one finger the amount of times I saw snow in Phoenix (and even then it was more like slushy rain), and I wore the same clothing in winter and summer, with maybe a light jacket on in the winter. When I first got here I was freezing in temperatures I wouldn't even feel now. In fact I get too hot far more easily than I get too cold, these days.
Another tell about the changing weather is that little Rey, hot water bottle of a ragdoll that she is, has been sneaking under the covers with me at night. She'll paw at me until I let her in, then curl up next to me and purr happily until we both fall asleep. Frequently, she'll come and settle between me and John, which must be just the warmest and most delightful place for a kitty to sleep. We'll know it's really getting cold when Socks sleeps on the bed too; he prefers to settle down nearer the foot of the bed, sometimes just behind my knees, sometimes on top of me.
Autumn always revives my interest in baking and lately I've been thinking about some of the baked goods I grew up with that aren't known very well in the UK, like shoofly pie, coffee cake (not cake with coffee, cake you have with coffee), crumb cake, molasses cookies (Pepparkakor as well as softer American-style cookies), and various breads: Anadama, which has cornmeal and molasses in it, Swedish Rye bread (so good, my favourite bread for toast), potato bread, and Amish milk bread (my recipe for Fëanor's Perfect Milk Rolls is basically this). I'm going to have to dig out some of my family recipes and fire up my KitchenAid in pure self-defense at this point.
Every year I always make a game out of trying not to put the heating on for as long as possible. We generally make it to about the beginning of November, but it's really hard to tell each year. I spent part of yesterday sorting out my winter clothes, in the hopes that having warmer things ready will help me delay the inevitable extra energy use. I have too many scarves & hats, so I culled a few store-bought ones that I don't care for as much, and took the opportunity to enjoy all over again the scarves & hats that have been knitted for me; there's just something so wonderful about seeing the work of someone's hands for you.
It really was quite a change, back in 2004, to move from Arizona to Texas to Scotland. Growing up, I can count on just one finger the amount of times I saw snow in Phoenix (and even then it was more like slushy rain), and I wore the same clothing in winter and summer, with maybe a light jacket on in the winter. When I first got here I was freezing in temperatures I wouldn't even feel now. In fact I get too hot far more easily than I get too cold, these days.
Another tell about the changing weather is that little Rey, hot water bottle of a ragdoll that she is, has been sneaking under the covers with me at night. She'll paw at me until I let her in, then curl up next to me and purr happily until we both fall asleep. Frequently, she'll come and settle between me and John, which must be just the warmest and most delightful place for a kitty to sleep. We'll know it's really getting cold when Socks sleeps on the bed too; he prefers to settle down nearer the foot of the bed, sometimes just behind my knees, sometimes on top of me.
Autumn always revives my interest in baking and lately I've been thinking about some of the baked goods I grew up with that aren't known very well in the UK, like shoofly pie, coffee cake (not cake with coffee, cake you have with coffee), crumb cake, molasses cookies (Pepparkakor as well as softer American-style cookies), and various breads: Anadama, which has cornmeal and molasses in it, Swedish Rye bread (so good, my favourite bread for toast), potato bread, and Amish milk bread (my recipe for Fëanor's Perfect Milk Rolls is basically this). I'm going to have to dig out some of my family recipes and fire up my KitchenAid in pure self-defense at this point.
