The weather went on holiday last week. It packed its bags and went off to sunnier climes, taking any shreds of warmth with it. Temperatures plummeted – some areas of Scotland had frost – and some considered taking out their winter clothes and others did. I considered donning an autumn jacket, but in the end was glad I hadn’t. The next day, the weather returned from its short break, bringing back a trunkful of warmth as a souvenir. For two days, the skies were cloudless, the breeze was light, and those who’d unpacked their winter clothes wondered what they had been thinking about.
The next day, the souvenirs distributed, the brief bloom of heat vanished, leaving a blanket of dull, white cloud and a chilly wind off the sea. It was wonderful while it lasted, our Indian summer.
Umbellifer seedheads
And where does ‘Indian summer’ originate? I turned to Wikipedia, that source of all knowledge both reliable and unreliable. As it happens, no one knows the definitive origin of the phrase. It first appears in late 18th C US and might possibly refer to hunting season for first nation peoples. Early usage implied warm, hazy, still days after the first frost. Although known in the UK from 1837, it didn’t enter common usage here until the 1950s.
But apart from not knowing what to wear from day to day, it’s been a quiet week. There was an amusing phone call from a company doing a survey of the plot of land opposite the family home, which is next to the canal. This survey is part of government project to move water from the north of England to the south via the canal network. The call was to get the lay of the land – was there livestock, locked gates, crops, any bodies of water they should know about? “Um, the Grand Union Canal?”, I said. The lass I spoke to laughed; it did seem an absurd question.
Watercolour Trees
Yesterday, I spent several hours scanning estate-related papers in preparation for going on holiday, then combining them into appropriate PDFs. Yes, I’m going on holiday again, though it does seem I’m barely at home now. And it will be a long holiday. One of the earliest thoughts I had on becoming widowed was that I could visit the US in the autumn, and could stay as long as I pleased. I could have done this before, but leaving Gordon behind to cope on his own for weeks didn’t seem fair. He was eminently capable of coping, of course, and I knew he would occupy himself with work, listening to music and audiobooks, and knitting.
There has been good progress on the gansey. The shoulders are completed and joined. You can see in the photo what the shoulder might look like when worn. It’s not ideal, but doesn’t look too bad. The gusset on the first sleeve is nearly finished. I’ll probably keep the pattern going to the bottom of the sleeve; with a fully patterned body, a partly plain sleeve might look odd.
Sleeve begun! The shoulder looks okay. I think the line in the middle helps.
The story I was told, which might not be true, is that after the first, disastrous, winter during which many pilgrims starved, and a summer of desperate farming, when the first cold weather hit they were panicky. The local tribes told them that the warm weather would return for a short time. The last gasp of warmth was therefore called Indian summer because that was who told them about it.
Yes indeed most of my summer clothes vacuum packed in bags under the bed..kept one or two out hoping….not disappointed.
Love your knitting..enjoy your holiday.can we expect some of your remarkable photos?
Still in the 90s in Northern Ca, US. Would happily send heat your way as long as it doesn’t get returned. ☺️
Just started a new (to me) Gansey in Moss Green-hoping to hurry cool weather and rains….
Thank you for continuing the blog, and safe travels. 🥰