It's happened. I've untangled the wooly mess of forgotten, bobbly jumpers congregating at the bottom of my wardrobe, I've enlisted another blanket for bedtime, and I've stuffed a bin bag up the chimney to exclude drafts. This week, I also made my own batch of chicken soup, wore gloves four mornings in a row, and binge ate porridge. Yep, it's official - autumn is here.

And I bet if you've spent any time on Pinterest, or are just a relentlessly upbeat person, this is the season you've been waiting for - the season of crackling fires, pub lunches, oversized knitted jumpers, pumpkins, the smell of cinnamon and colorful, crunchy leaves decorating the streets.

If you're one of these people: stop reading now, click back on to Deliciously Ella and enjoy the rest of your pumpkin spiced latte...because things about to get real ugly.

It's October. It's a Saturday. I've rejected plans to go out with friends and I'm in bed with a stuffed bear wearing three layers and two duvets, poised and ready to list the many reasons why AUTUMN IS CRAP. Brace yo self.


1. LEAVES

Ooo aren't they lovely when they change colour and we get to see that truly autumnal scattering of gold/red that makes such a lush satisfying crunch when you step on it in your Chelsea boots... pfft. Let's be real here; autumn leaves rarely crunch, they're normally brown, and nine times out of ten have merged into some sort of saturated mulch that leaves a minging slimy trail all over your new suede boots.

2. COSY JUMPERS

We all want to be that girl on Pinterest with the perfect messy braids and chunky roll neck jumper who looks just so cosy, but let's be honest: most of us can only scrape together the funds to hit Primark to stock up on knitwear, which will emerge from our washing machine one week later threadbare, bobbly and unable to retain any sort of body heat whatsoever. Don't even get me started on autumn fashion as a general, because I'm currently desperately attempting to save my £2 disposable income each week to purchase an £80 pair of suede boots and it's making me feel quite sad about life and the sort of people who can afford to refresh their wardrobe with new things every season.

3. BOYFRIENDS

It's effing freezing, and hence only logical to start looking for a partner to occupy one half of the bed and share their body heat (and your rent) so you have any remote chance of surviving the long winter ahead, right? With autumn comes the Relatonship Transfer Window, causing an inevitable influx of coupling off and wifeing in – which is all fine and dandy until you're the last man standing in the friendship group. Your friends are starting to pie you off every weekend so they can cuddle on the sofa with lasagne and blankets and stuff, and you're the last one hanging around outside some packed bar in Clapham every Friday night trying to lock in your winter squeeze for boyfriend season, but still remaining horribly alone and cold in your giant bed night on night on night (this isn't actually me, promise).


4. CARBS

One of the things I love most about autumn (and life actually), is food. All the good stuff comes out: warm stews, chunky soups, pies, gravy, root vegetables, sprouts. Which is all fun and games, but let's appreciate the common denominator here: complex carbohydrates. One half of us wants nothing more than to curl up in bed with a giant bowl of spag bol and cheese; the other half is scrolling through their Instagram feed reading "motivational" quotes such as the above, looking at photos of cacao nibs and abs, and proceeding to cry into a bowl of spinach and tuna in a bid to finally get that beach bod ready for June 2016. YAY.

5. SOCIAL SOLITUDE 

The drop in temperature means a social life spike is inevitable, and everyone starts spending their Saturday nights doing X Factor and tortellini instead of tequila slammers and BBQs. A blessing for the bank balance, but a curse for your morale/happiness/general wellbeing. But it's cool, because Itv 2 is probably showing Bridget Jones once a week, so you've always got that.

6. THE TEMPERATURE

TWO DUVETS. Yet again please mind the gap between my rent and my salary, because I can't really afford heating and I'm having to come up with new strategies daily to keep warm and I've started debating buying an electric blanket and I'm even thinking about wearing a beanie around the house. In conclusion: my flat is freezing, and I'm probably not alone in this one. Has anybody else stood on the platform waiting for a train/bus this week wearing gloves? Yep. yep. yep.



I could go on but I think it's pretty official: I hate autumn. (and I think I may be suffering from mild seasonal affective disorder) 

And on that note, I'm officially going into hibernation. See you all next April and please bring beer gardens, Pimms and tanlines.

1 | "Oh you live in Tooting? I heard you can get a really good curry there..."





3 | "Sorry I can't make it to your house party. I looked it up on Citymapper and I'd need to change bus three times to get home from Hackney, or pay £60 for an Uber."


4 | "I went on a date last night. He took me to Honky Tonk in Clapham and he was wearing a pair of red chinos."


5 | "It started out pretty calm and then we ended up in Infernos."


6 | "Just gonna nip to Whole Foods for some coconut oil."


7 | "Sorry, gonna be late for work today - District Line is part suspended."


8 | "Oh, a night out in Shoreditch? Thanks but it's a bit alternative for me."


9 | "Let's just get some beers and head to Clapham Common."


10 | "Saw the hottest guy/girl running around Tooting Bec Common today."


11 | "My nearest tube? It's about a 30min walk from mine, yeah."


12 | "Just walked past someone from Made in Chelsea."


13 | "Anyone fancy lunch at the Bluebird?"


14 | "Catching a Thameslink, be there in 45!" 



15 | "There's a Chelsea game on so I'm just going to spend two hours fighting my way through the crowds to Fulham Broadway tube."


16 | "My next door neighbours are working professionals, living in a semi-detached Victorian property. They've got two children who go to the local primary in Balham."


17 | "Yeah, my flat's under a Heathrow flight path."


18 | "Weather's crazy good tomorrow - fancy going to the lido?"

19 | "Yes, the transport links are crap, but we have green spaces, cheap rent and I bet my council tax is less than yours too."

I've always tried to make Mothers Day special for you, because you made every other day of the year so special for us. Jack and I always used to make you burnt toast and soggy cereal in bed, or pick you some last minute daffodils (and ruin your flower beds in the process) to make you feel a bit special. Even when you were ill, this didn't change. I baked you pies, I made cakes, I bought you special presents - that bracelet you wore until the end; I still have my one. Mother's Day was always our thing, and I couldn't have imagined it being another way.
Until this year. My senses are heightened to the mass consumer onslaught of advertising, sales and content all centred around how we should spoil our Mums this Sunday. Even at work, I've written blog after blog urging loyal customers to splash £70 on a necklace for their Mother Hen. The pub opposite my flat is offering a Mother's Day special; even Sainsburys is in on the game with strategically placed chocolates interrupting my lunch break dash. It's everywhere, and there's no other way to put it: it's sh*t.
However it did get me thinking (now there's a miracle). Just like Christmas, and exactly like Valentine's Day - why does it all focus on the day? Why should there be this one, clear-cut moment when we're all supposed to shower our Mum in love and presents? Shouldn't we be doing this everyday? Aside from the endless meals, aside from the nappy changes and even aside from the life advice - she did push you out, which y'know was pretty painful and also a pretty big reason to your existence. Be grateful for that every day. You're the only person who knows what her heart sounds like from the inside, after all.

My Mum's funeral roses