Country Living with Francis Farragher

It’s a slightly vulnerable time of the year for many of us in the Northern Hemisphere as the evenings ‘close in’ with increasing pace, and last week, I have to admit to a small dose of seasonal psychosis when someone mentioned in the office as to whether the C— party was booked or not.

Not even a gentle reminder that this was only early October was sufficient to curb the enthusiasm of the would-be partygoer who reminded me that most of the big companies had always booked their ‘seasonal dos’ before the last day of February had expired.

Even in my local watering hole where compliments and put-downs can issue with equal frequency, the local barman went to the trouble last week of counting out week-by-week the shopping days we had left until that time of year arrives again.

I’m convinced too that in the newspaper business, the weekly cycle of deadlines also seems to act like a turbo boost to the passing of time: no sooner is one edition out than the next one is being prepared as the days, weeks, months and years seem to melt away without trace.

At this stage of my life, I’m probably an honorary member of the SAD [Seasonal Affective Disorder] society, if only on the basis that I spend a lot of my time moaning about the darker evenings and mornings; the need to find and charge up winter torches; and also, experiencing a measure of melancholia after watching the swallows lining up on the telephone wires for their great trip south.

Maybe there are moments of solace to be seized at in, for example, accepting that you have to slip into relaxation mode without any feeling of guilt after finishing a day’s work on the refreshingly simple prognosis that there’s no point going outside in the dark.

All very well until you read a newspaper article or watch a TV programme where various psychology and fitness gurus take that innocent mental solace away by reminding you that through each day of darkness, there’s nothing better for your system than a 20 to 30 minute period of exercise which increase the work rate of your neuro transmitters like dopamine and norepinephrine. Now, that’s one that I definitely read somewhere, without fully understanding it.

Pictured: One of the warming consolations of winter . . . a real turf fire.