HELTER-SKELTER MONTH

So November’s barrelling on isn’t it? It’s like a helter-skelter month: you start at the top with the fading sunlight and the whiff of pumpkins in the park, and before you know it, you’ve slid into Christmas.

It’s a bit soggy for helter-skeltering. The lights are on, the sky is battleship grey, and the windows are dashed with streaming raindrops. Thomas Hood follows Keats as usual.

I think it’s the looking-forward-to-Christmas that robs November of its character. That’s the gravity, whizzing us down the ride on our straw mats, isn’t it? The cosy thought that at the end of this stormy month, there are twinkling lights and cosy nights. We race towards it through a flurry of crispy leaves, and I wonder whether that‘s okay.

I tell you what though. ‘Christmas Tree Prep’ has appeared in the diary for next weekend. It’s followed, the weekend after (still November), by ‘Tree Up!’ and I’m a bit scared to ask what the difference is. Meanwhile, the piano tuner’s round, pre-carol season. I’m fairly certain the lady of the house will want to try a few Ding Dongs and Good Kings Wenceslas when he’s gone - so even before the helter-skelter drops me in lovely Advent, the festive season seems to be spilling up the slide at the same time. Fa la la.

There must be inherent goodness to November though, surely? In some ways, it’s a shame Guy Fawkes couldn’t have waited until the middle of the month - fireworks night might have been more of a thing. But then of course, he’d only have been able to blow up a few MPs and the cleaner, I suppose, given that the King was only ever going to be there on the Fifth.

Gosh. Sorry Americans. That was a weird digression. Don’t worry about it. You guys have lovely Thanksgiving in November. I like that - perfectly placed. Like stopping the helter-skelter halfway down for a roast dinner.

Anyway, here, we seem to twirl November away. The rain falls and the leaves flutter, the sky darkens and the roads glisten. It is beautiful in its own way. Isn’t it?