After careful consideration, I have decided that my lifestyle has a definite cycle. Winter is a time of hibernation. I emerge periodically, blinking in the cold wind, at least down to 12 or even 10 degrees centigrade at times, chop another wheelbarrowload of firewood, make a quick sortie to the supermarket for supplies of chocolate from Belgium, snowpeas from Africa, and bananas from Tonga, and disappear inside again. Summer is hot and dry, and I stay inside much of the time then too. (No air conditioner but the house is very well designed and sited to be delightfully cool in the back rooms). This is apparently called 'aestivation'. Between the two, in spring, and, as now in autumn, I am active, cleaning out my burrow, scratching around and marking the corners of my surrounding territory, and preparing for the next season. It's all here. Quite simple, really.