Who can believe it is nearly October? Not me. I sat down one day in July and then the next thing I knew, here we are. I could believe it better if we were just going into September.

But October! How the year is flying past.

And October creeps in, offering spooks and scares aplenty.

Now, full disclosure here, I’m not a Halloween person. I don’t like horror movies, and I dislike all the gruesome decorating in the name of scaring anyone. We have skeletons in the house, but that’s because the daughter is studying forensic anthropology and needs to know the names of all the bones in the human body, otherwise we’d let them be.

We do, however, do Autumn in all its fruity, generous, warm, cosy, orange and red splendour. I rather adore the finery of the trees, the cooling of the mornings and definitely the darkening of the nights. Nights when one can legitimately say “I would rather not go out at the moment: it’s getting dark very early and I have some housework to do” and no one will question what that housework is.

I’ve spent a happy 45 minutes at work today planning my October homemaking. It’s easy, really:

• Collect everything cosy together
• Put it on trays or in baskets in the living room
• Light softly scented candles and put up fairy lights
• Make a cup of tea and enjoy the comfort.

Well, that might be an oversimplification. I want to move some books around, put the DVDs out onto an open shelf behind the TV, get a corner almost cleared for the (inevitable, and sooner than I think) Christmas tree and make sure that my magazines to inspire for Autumn and Christmas are all within reach.

I’ve made a note of everything I want to do in Evernote (still my planner app of choice) and in my paper planner. I’m slightly oversubscribed for work and Reader training at the moment, so homemaking is kind of a proper hobby for me: I have massive dreams of what I can get done, spend an inflated amount on kit to help me do it, and then stare nervously and too on edge to start because the idea of tidying away for real life is too much.

I jest, of course. Some stuff will get done. I treated myself to a great, big golden-orange Mum plant at the weekend, and that’s keeping me smiling at the moment. I’ve also found myself getting terribly nostalgic about nature tables again and collecting acorns and chestnuts. But my big autumn to winter plan is finally to finish my grey-autumn ripple blanket. The colours are sublime, the basket looks delicious next to my chair and I’m over half-way done on it. Two or three rows a day would see me finished by the end of October, I reckon, and leave me free to plan the Next Big Thing, Christmas. Which will always be with us quicker than we realise.

How to Hygge the British Way is my gift to the world. I don’t get paid for writing it, I’m not in it for the kudos, financial rewards, to become an influencer, work with brands or otherwise make any money from the blog. That’s why there are no ads, and any products I mention and recommend have either been gifted to me or bought by me with my everyday wages or donations from supporters. Every book I review has been bought and read by me, unless stated otherwise.

I do get a couple of pennies each time someone buys from the Amazon links on my page, as an Amazon Affiliate, but otherwise if you’d like to support me, I like to give something back in return. That’s why I write books. It always feels good if you get a book back in return for some money. You can find a full list of my books at my Author’s Page on Amazon, but especially recommended for this time of year are my Christmas books:

 Have Yourself a Happy Hygge Christmas is a good place to start, on how to make the season cosier, happier and more personal. Using the principles of hygge (simplicity, handmade, home-based) it aims to encourage you to craft a Christmas rather than dive into the Same Old Same Old without a thought. September and October is a good time to reconsider teh celebration before racing into December and the season of overconsumption hits.

 Enjoying a Self-Care Christmas may be a faster and easier read. It has short lists of ways to cut Christmas preparation to the bones, along with a kind of advent calendar of simple, free and easy self-care activities to remind you that taking time out for yourself is no bad thing. It is only available as an e-book.

My non-Christmas books are also available, of course:

Cosy Happy Hygge: Setting up a rhythm to life and rituals to enjoy it to make for a more balanced life that handles waves and storms better. The book has small and easy ways to make your life flow with grace and happiness, which lead to more hygge.

Happier: Probably my most personal book, it’s the story of how I used hygge and the little things in life to help boost my happiness. I still go back and reread to remind myself what I need to do to be a happy human. And it’s always the little things.

I’m currently working on two book projects: I have a hankering to rewrite 50 Ways to Hygge the British Way, so it’s not available at the moment, but even dearer to my heart and my next stated aim is to finish and publish my next book, Simple Plus Cosy = Hygge. It will be about homemaking and how the home we create shapes the hygge we have. Hopefully it will be finished by the end of Winter 2026.

If you’d like to support me, but don’t want to buy a book, I have a Paypal.Me account as Hygge Jem. Every little helps, so even a few pence goes towards the books, goods and courses I use and recommend on the site. I’m grateful for every little bit that brings me closer to my dream of full-time writing, and I know I couldn’t still be writing if it weren’t for the support of many readers and friends out there. Thank you all for every little bit of support, emotional, physical and financial, you give me.

If you’ve enjoyed this article, don’t forget to share it or save it so others can enjoy reading, thinking about and living hygge as well.

The photo between post and promotions is from my camera roll, a bench in my local park one weekend. I love the autumnal feel, the wet path and the couple of stray leaves resting on the seat before their inevitable plunge to the floor.