I love conkers. They're so pretty - all shiny and richly coloured, like polished mahogany. We used to collect loads of them when I was little (and there was a memorable incident where my mum decided to throw a large stick up into the branches of a horse chestnut tree to shake down a few conkers, and ended up clonking herself on the head instead...) and games of conkers in the school playground were fierce!
This time last week I was enjoying lunch in the Monchique mountains, and now I'm back in England and autumn is definitely creeping in! I don't mind, though - autumn means soup and boots and scarves and, most importantly, my birthday!