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Autumn is the season I spend the most time out of the garden buying things for it. Bulbs, mostly. Garlic for the back bed. A tray of something from the plant sale at the community hall that I did not need and will find room for anyway. Between the garden centre, the market stall and the seed swap, October has me in and out of the house with muddy knees and a pocket full of receipts.
This is a small post about something that has nothing to do with timing and everything to do with how an autumn weekend actually goes: what I carry in my pockets while I do it.
The afternoon my wallet went into the bed
Two autumns ago I spent a Saturday planting bulbs along the narrow strip beside the back wall. It is a kneeling job, close to the ground, a trowel in one hand and a bag of bulbs in the other, shuffling sideways along the bed. When I stood up at the end and went to pay my neighbour back for the bag of compost they had picked up for me, my back pocket was empty.
I found the wallet half an hour later, pressed into the soft soil where I had been kneeling, one corner already muddy. Nothing was lost. But I remember standing there thinking that I had planned the planting depth, the spacing and the week down to the day, and had not given a single thought to the fat leather brick in my back pocket that was always going to fall out the moment I knelt down.
What autumn weekends actually involve
If I look at my notebook for October, the planting is only half of it. The other half is errands that sit right next to the gardening.
The garden centre run. Usually on the way back from somewhere else, with soil still on my hands from the morning.
The plant sale. Cash only, often, with a queue and a table where you put everything down to count out change.
The seed swap. Envelopes, labels, a lot of chatting, and more things in my hands than I have hands for.
All of it involves moving between kneeling in the dirt and standing at a counter, sometimes within the same hour. And all of it goes better when the things in my pockets are few, flat, and not about to fall out.
What I changed
Front pocket, not back
The simplest fix was the one I resisted longest. A back pocket is the worst place for anything you care about when you spend the afternoon kneeling or bending over a bed. Front pocket, every time, which only works if what goes in it is slim.
Carry less
I emptied my wallet onto the kitchen table one evening and was embarrassed. Loyalty cards for shops I had not been into in years. Receipts from the summer. A card for a library I no longer use. What I actually needed on an autumn errand day was one payment card, an ID, and a little cash for the plant sale.
Something that survives a bit of dirt
Whatever I carry is going to be handled with dirty fingers sooner or later. I want something that wipes clean and does not mind it.
A wallet brand worth a look
That is how I came across Double Oak Essentials. They make slim and minimalist wallets, including cardholders in leather and aluminium with a pop-up mechanism that pushes your cards up when you need them, and RFID-blocking options. The idea is the opposite of the fat leather brick I lost in the bulb bed: a few cards, a little cash, and something small enough for a front pocket. If you want to see what they make, the banner below goes straight to their shop.
As with anything, think about what you actually carry before you choose. If you need room for a lot of cash or a stack of cards, a very slim cardholder will frustrate you. If, like me, you mostly need a card, an ID and a few notes, it is the right size.
A gift idea for the gardener who has every tool
One more thought, since the season for buying presents is coming up fast. Gardeners are notoriously hard to buy for. We already have the trowel we like, we are picky about gloves, and we would rather choose our own seeds. A small, well-made everyday thing that solves a real annoyance, like a wallet that does not fall out of a pocket in the bulb bed, is the sort of present I would actually use.
Back to the bulbs
This autumn I planted the same strip along the back wall, on roughly the same weekend, kneeling in the same soft soil. The bulbs went in, the notebook got its date, and my pocket stayed where it was supposed to. It is a very small thing to get right. But gardening, as I keep writing on this site, is mostly made of small things done at the right moment.
If your autumn weekends look anything like mine, you can browse Double Oak Essentials wallets here. Then empty your pockets onto the kitchen table and see what you have really been carrying around.
Photos: Greta Hoffman and Serena Koi via Pexels.