A month becomes a few months and soon becomes a year

Smiling through gritted teeth as the calendar changes to a new month. The empty charging cable for my phone dangles from the socket redundant but symbolic. The homemade brew of attempted cider sits still, not energised. 
The dullness of the year now highlighted with autumn tones, the larger picture of colour seems wasted in these polarised times.
Dreams of times past and of times to come, wishful thinking says some.
A sporadic diary of work now crossed out with a P for postponement, don't be fooled by a photographer who say they are busy.
Our house is nearly newly plastered throughout, a brilliant harvest of garden vegetables as reward. The first frosts bite the shed roofs and car windows, let them sit there, I'm not going anyway fast today.