Posted by in September's Magazine

Leaving the cosy flat behind, a homemade cappuccino still warm in my belly, I couldn’t stop smiling. I’d just visited Charlie who had only been in the world about 40 days. After a shaky start he’d recently come home from hospital, spending his first few weeks in sunny (or not so sunny) Leith. His big smiles, the little snoring sounds, which made me hug him even closer, and even his smelly nappy (by all accounts), were all wonderful reassuring signs that he was going to be just fine.

Funny how a wee life like that, can put a spring in your step and smile on your face, and make you feel like the world is in fact a good place, and that anything is possible.



I’d been having a particularly rotten day up until that point, commiserating the end of summer and feeling very sorry for myself. The papers were saying it, the sudden drop in temperature was confirming it, autumn was very definitely on its way, and it was only the end of August!
For most, the summer had been a huge disappointment – a few lousy months of promised sunshine that never really materialised. For me, it had been open shoes and painted toe-nails, little cardigans, even a skirt now and again, a cool breeze blowing through the flat, early evening strolls along the Shore, and drinking coffee by the swing bridge, watching life and visitors to our magical part of the world go by. I really, really didn’t want it to end. The thought of dark mornings, and having to dust down the winter coat and look out my thick tights and boots, was just too depressing. We hadn’t even been on our summer holiday yet!

Outside my door, key poised, I waved to a few familiar faces outside Carriers Quarters, enjoying the start of the weekend. The night air was actually quite warm. Maybe summer hadn’t abandoned us just yet. How could I be so miserable about a change in the weather when wee Charlie was sleeping so soundly nearby?

The important thing was Charlie was well. And, if I was to be perfectly honest, I was a big fan of autumn and an even bigger fan of winter – nights of laughing and crying to the X-factor, wearing snugly socks to bed, cosy evenings by an open fire, and of course lots of Christmas shopping!
Climbing the stairs to my flat – a warm bed and evening of Jonathan Ross awaiting me – I realised that I was no longer mourning summer, but instead looking forward to the months ahead. Sleep well Charlie, sweet dreams…

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