THE bank holiday heatwave is a receding memory, there’s a chill of autumn in the air. It’s cold underfoot when I come downstairs in the morning; my weekend run over Cockey Down is more bracing; English strawberries are over; Victoria plums have been and gone (blink and you miss them…); I’m offered my first bag of windfall apples; the grass in the garden (‘lawn’ is an aspiration) no longer needs a weekly cut and newspaper pronouncements of a forthcoming cold, hard winter emerge as predictably as snowdrops in spring. Summer went out with a bang; autumn has already arrived.

I look at the calendar. I can’t believe its deceit. Where has the year gone? Is it a sign of old age that the year seems to flash past? Is it the pace of modern life? Or just the way I live mine?

As I try to come to terms with life rushing past like an express train (i.e. not a South Western Railways one…) I have to cope with another dilemma – do I live for the moment or plan for the future?

Being spontaneous adds a certain excitement to life. My son and I only planned our summer holiday a couple of weeks before we went. My boss was understanding; we were able to arrange last-minute travel and accommodation. But the cheapest flights were booked well in advance, and although some tickets for a show were available, they were in rubbish seats. Good ones had all gone. And tickets for the most restricted visitor attractions had also been booked up months in advance. It didn’t spoil our holiday; we had a great time doing other things – but as the travel agent pointed out, spontaneity and late booking comes at a price…

Similarly tickets for the theatre. The best performances are booked months in advance; some are sold out the day booking opens; for others expensive ‘friends’ membership is essential to access priority booking. So I booked some tickets in advance. Six months later I find myself in a busy week rushing to attend a performance for which I’m too stressed and exhausted to enjoy properly, with a companion who now can’t make it.

“You need to declutter your life,” a friend of mine helpfully advised. How? Get rid of my teenage son, the dog and cat, a job which I enjoy, but takes me away from home. A bit drastic. Juggling them leaves precious little room for spontaneity whereas planning in advance makes it hard to accommodate inevitable changes of circumstance.

Christmas looms. Do I give into the temptation do more than just look at adverts for 2020 summer holidays this year? Or will I do what I always do; wait and see what happens and pay the price of the chaos that inevitably ensues.

September already. Life hurtles along leaving me feeling barely in control.