Forget Hygge, I think us Brits have had that heartwarming, nurturing, autumn mood nailed for years with the word 'cosy'. Blankets, woolly socks, and a hot cup of tea. Reading a magazine while biscuits bake in the oven and the wind howls outside. Leisurely breakfasts with family, candlelit dinners with friends. Even, board games on a Sunday afternoon and yet another viewing of The Sound of Music. All concepts and activities that are not alien to these shores, right?
I love going out for walks with my terrible two. Providing I bring an abundance of snacks and am prepared to to offer up the odd piggy back or seven when their little legs get tired, we can be out for hours. The forest floor seems to hold more treasures than the local toy shop for them (although, don't hold me to that when the Christmas adverts start appearing on the television). However, I must admit, after having the thousandth leaf thrust at me to inspect, and being forced to carry the millionth stick home, my enjoyment does start to wane ever so slightly (is a hip flask the answer?).