As I am typing this, I am looking at blood red Virginia Creeper trailing down across the French window at Westacre. Windfalls dot the ground under apple trees laden with fruit. The crown of the big oak tree across the lane is coloured with hints of gold among the green. Meanwhile, at home, I am struggling to gather in my own crop of apples and grateful that the sunflower I planted in the spring has at last produced one golden bloom.
A few weeks ago, our neighbours moved out. They had lived in the house next door for nearly 30 years, and we’d been their neighbours for about half that time. This quiet couple whose children had left home have been replaced by a family with two young boys, one of whom seems to very much enjoy shrieking at the top of his voice. The adjoining wall isn’t very thick. You can hear people sneeze next door. This is going to be very different.
Different also is the fact that I will be going to work in an office for three days a week. Except for a couple of months back in 1994, that hasn’t ever happened to me. I’ve always been a freelance teacher working from home and my clients’ premises. Now I have colleagues. And a desk. And thirteen tutors with all their courses to look after. That’s a big change.