'Season of mists ......

..... and mellow fruitfulness'. Well, Mr Keats, despite my love of your well-known and oft-quoted poem I doubt if 'mellow' would be an appropriate description of this stunning autumn. 'Fruitfulness' - yes, for the trees have never been so boughed down with hips, haws, berries and fruit, much to the enjoyment of the birds. The rowan in our front garden, not so long ago bearing its heaviest crop of berries, is now a busy fast-food outlet for numerous male blackbirds, nimbly balancing right out on the furthest, slimmest stems, to feed on the remaining fruit. It's good, too, to welcome back the goldfinches, emptying the feeders in the tree as fast as we fill them, along with blue and great tits. We've even had a visit from a solitary fieldfare, plus the usual robins and a wren. Unfortunately, both the car and caravan are parked under said tree - and are now covered in bird droppings.

'Mists' - yes. The scene from our bedroom window on Monday morning was almost Tolkienesque - all the valleys between us and Cannock Chase on the horizon, hidden under layers of mist, with the towers of Rugeley Power Station highlighted in the sunshine looking for all the world like some magical castle, and nearer to home, rather dark and sinister, another valley filled with the black smoke from a bonfire. How appropriate that it was 'Gandalf' who brought me my morning cuppa. When our granddaughter was small, this was exactly what her version of 'Grandad' sounded like, much to the amusement of anyone within earshot - particularly when a tall, bearded, grey-haired man appeared as a result.

Both our grandchildren took part in 'Kids on the Catwalk', at their school, on Monday evening. Our granddaughter looked very grown-up and elegant, strutting her stuff alongside her friend, but I have to say that it was our 4 1/2 year old grandson, who stole the limelight and had the place in uproar as he threw in some pretty amazing break-dance moves. Trying to take decent photos was almost impossible - both his mum and me laughed so much that we cried. A most enjoyable and entertaining evening.

At last, on Tuesday morning, I eventually got around to setting some broad bean seeds, and erecting a fleece tunnel to protect them. I returned home with giant parsnips, leeks, and a bag of salad leaves, plus a bunch of parsley and sage. It was Hill Allotments AGM that evening and, disappointingly, a poor turn out for what was an interesting and full agenda, followed by the distribution of cups and trophies, and a tasty buffet laid on by the committee. The Committee put in a lot of hard work to make Hill Allotments run so successfully. Many thanks to all of those involved. Brian and Pauline took home the trophy for sharing 'Best Half Plot' with me, and it will be my turn to have it next week.

Our son A returned from his latest working trip abroad, on Thursday. This time it was a couple of days in Athens, where he sqeezed in enough time between working to visit the Parthenon, along with some colleagues. Unfortunately, when they got there, it was closed, due to the elections! Had he been successful, we'd have been very jealous indeed. Then he flew to Cyprus for the remainder of the week, before returning via Athens and Munich, to Birmingham, spending Thursday night with us. What a good son - he managed to bring us a bottle of our favourite ouzo. His next trip, in the new year, will be to Taiwan.

We were up early yesterday, ready to man our stalls at the Sacred Heart Christmas Bazaar. As usual Mike was kept busy running the tombola, and for the past few years I've helped out on the cakes and preserves stall. Just look at all these beautifully presented jars of pickles jams, and delicious cakes, and to think that most of them were made by Frank and Pauline. I have to make a special mention of the superb chocolate marble cake, made by ten year old Ellie.Six of us had been kept busy all morning and when the doors closed at 1pm, there was barely anything left on our stall, and nothing left on the tombola. So, despite the recession, the bazaar seemed to have been very successful, once again. The best part was to follow, when the stalls and decorations were all cleared away, tables set up down the centre of the hall, and the helpers sat down to a three course meal with wine and coffee, prepared by the ladies who had been working hard all morning, in the kitchen. Aching backs and feet are soon forgotten as we enjoy the food and happy chatter. I suppose this is the first of the festive get-togethers of the year. For me, it was then home, feet up, coffee and the Saturday Telegraph. No such luck for Mike, who was off to cook the main course for 30, at the annual Green Mans Morris feast. Fortunately, he'd done quite a bit of prep the previous day, but it was a long day, on his feet, for him. Why then, was it my back that went, suddenly, this morning, and for no apparent reason? I'm now sitting propped up with cushions, and wearing a heat pad and hoping I'll recover in time to cook the evening meal - or Mike may have to do it!