The fire has been lit and scarves have been pressed back into service. Only the weeds are growing in the garden. Them and the rhubarb.
I harvested what there was, which should really have been left a little while longer, but hey; and courtesy of the gorgoeus Hugh (a long, long time crush of mine) I made a clafoutis. Which smelled as good as it looked and tasted.
I also spent most of yesterday decluttering, again. This time you can really see the difference in the cellar and workroom. About time too.