Dressing gowns

I am in the fortunate position of possessing four dressing gowns.

Now you might consider this to be slightly excessive. I probably don't actually *need* four dressing gowns. But one of them is a big, thick, snuggly depth of winter dressing gown that I wear when the temperature is absolutely freezing. And one is the lightest of light summer dressing gowns that you don't need for warmth but for decorum's sake should you need to go outside in your summer night attire, or have visitors. The other two are mid-weight dressing gowns, one a bit warmer than the other. These are the two I wear most often and which one I wear depends entirely on the temperature inside the house, although I wear the lighter, purple one more often in the summer and the heavier, green one more often in the winter. Obviously!

The super snuggly one was washed at the end of the last winter and hung in the wardrobe. A few weeks later the green one was washed and went in. A little after that my very light summer one came out.  This weekend I have washed it and put it back in the wardrobe.  It was hardly worth washing it. I think I've worn it a mere handful of times this summer.  It was not the hottest of summers that I have lived through since I came to England.  And my green dressing gown came back out of the wardrobe a mere few weeks after it went in.  Some bits of the summer were positively chilly!!

This weekend just gone, however, was not chilly at all. At least, not during the daytime. Proper autumn weather it was.  Cool and even a bit drizzly in the early mornings, followed by gloriously sunny later mornings and afternoons, followed by cool, nearly cold nights.  Lovely, it was. Although I think the summer veg might be coming to the end of their useful lives. They are not enjoying the colder nights any more than I would were it not for the fact that I have a lovely feathery, downy, cuddly doona to keep me cosy.

We went to the Chatsworth farm shop for a few supplies on Saturday. Now this would hardly count as news. I'm sure you all know that we go there fairly regularly. But Saturday's trip was very much more, um, exciting than it would usually be.  As we were driving along, the Builder suddenly said: What on earth is the car doing?  I couldn't see a car. But he meant ours. The one we were driving in. Out in the middle of the Derbyshire countryside.  I don't know.  What is it doing?  Losing power, apparently.  Three times on the way to Chatsworth it suddenly began to slow down and lose its acceleration.  Getting back home again required careful, gentle driving on The Builder's part and encouraging exhortations from me to the car along the lines of: Come on, you can get to the top of the hill; keep trying. Then suddenly it seemed to shake itself and trundle along as normal.  But I think that we might not go to London in it, as was the plan, on Saturday unless it's been inspected by Nick the Mechanic and possibly fixed. I have no wish for it to decide that it can't get any further half way along the M1!!

No other excitements except that The Builder had a delivery of wood boards during the week and has started putting up the side wall for the back porch. You never know - it might be finished by the time winter kicks in