You can tell by the itch in your fingers

Misty mornings. Turning leaves. Sunshine with a crisp edge. Yes: knitting season is here for real.

When you're big, autumn is for knitting. But when you're little, it's for leaves. Obviously.

When you're big, autumn is for knitting. But when you're little, it's for leaves. Obviously.

That acrid smell you're noticing? It isn't woodsmoke. It's panic. It's me, thinking about how much knitting I have to do, to have any hope at all of completing the various exciting projects I have on the go. (And some that are more personal, not so much exciting as... well, personal. But important. Maybe the most important.)

Luckily for me, tomorrow we head off for a week's holiday. We're not going far – to northern Germany, for a cousin's wedding, with a bit of chill time tacked on afterwards. (So thoughtful of her to set the date in the autumn holiday!) We'll be driving, which means dear Armin will be driving, which means I'll get hours and hours of knitting time. Marvellous.

Happy autumn, you.