January
The empty chair
Set an extra chair by the cold hearth. If it has moved by morning, your guest preferred the window.
A small diversion
The Almanacof Fading Things
The year turns. The margins fill. A few peculiar observations for whichever month you find yourself in.
A note for this month
Choose a month, or turn a leaf and see what the margins have kept for you.
February
The borrowed button
A button found in a coat you seldom wear belongs to an occasion that has not happened yet.
March
The gate
Oil the garden gate before the wind learns its tune. Some songs are difficult to teach it to forget.
April
Rain indoors
An umbrella opened indoors may catch a shower intended for next Thursday. Shake it out carefully.
May
The late invitation
If blossom falls into your open book, someone has invited you somewhere. You are under no obligation to attend.
June
The long evening
Leave one small task unfinished before dusk. Long evenings dislike being left with nothing to do.
July
The extra shadow
Count the shadows beneath the washing line. An extra one is harmless, provided you do not bring it in with the sheets.
August
The orchard debt
The orchard will accept a story in place of a fallen apple. It has heard the one about your journey here.
September
The spare key
A key found among the fallen leaves may fit a room your house has not yet decided to include.
October
The travelling coat
Check the pockets of your winter coat. Something may have spent the summer travelling without you.
November
The unwritten letter
Keep a sheet of paper beside the lamp. November has a great deal to say, and very little daylight in which to say it.
December
The visitor
Before your guests arrive, count the cups. Before they leave, count them again. Cups are easier to count than guests.
A note for your pocket
A useful delay
The next knot you cannot untie is doing you a favour. Put the parcel down and make some tea.
A small fictional diversion, inspired by the Almanac in The Book of Bitter Ends.
Read the Almanac notes
The empty chair
Set an extra chair by the cold hearth. If it has moved by morning, your guest preferred the window.
The borrowed button
A button found in a coat you seldom wear belongs to an occasion that has not happened yet.
The gate
Oil the garden gate before the wind learns its tune. Some songs are difficult to teach it to forget.
Rain indoors
An umbrella opened indoors may catch a shower intended for next Thursday. Shake it out carefully.
The late invitation
If blossom falls into your open book, someone has invited you somewhere. You are under no obligation to attend.
The long evening
Leave one small task unfinished before dusk. Long evenings dislike being left with nothing to do.
The extra shadow
Count the shadows beneath the washing line. An extra one is harmless, provided you do not bring it in with the sheets.
The orchard debt
The orchard will accept a story in place of a fallen apple. It has heard the one about your journey here.
The spare key
A key found among the fallen leaves may fit a room your house has not yet decided to include.
The travelling coat
Check the pockets of your winter coat. Something may have spent the summer travelling without you.
The unwritten letter
Keep a sheet of paper beside the lamp. November has a great deal to say, and very little daylight in which to say it.
The visitor
Before your guests arrive, count the cups. Before they leave, count them again. Cups are easier to count than guests.
A useful delay
The next knot you cannot untie is doing you a favour. Put the parcel down and make some tea.
Good company
A moth has selected your window. For tonight, at least, your taste in light has been approved.
Housekeeping
Dust the top of the wardrobe. Whatever lives there is beginning to think you have forgotten the arrangement.
A modest ambition
Plant something that takes longer than a week to grow. You have been making promises to very impatient things.
A small kindness
Return a borrowed book before its owner dreams of it. Include the scrap of paper you have been using as a bookmark.
Kitchen counsel
If the kettle begins before you light the stove, let it finish. Interrupting is how these things become arguments.
An excellent excuse
The road will still be there tomorrow. This is not true of the last slice of cake.
Unclaimed property
A glove without its partner is waiting for a different hand. Leave it somewhere easy to find.
A matter of manners
Thank the door that opens on the first attempt. It may have had to persuade the room.
Unseasonable weather
A cold patch in a warm room is not always a draught. Sometimes the house is remembering February.
An unexpected inheritance
Keep the odd screw from the bottom of the drawer. One day you will discover what your grandfather was trying to mend.
The patient reader
The book you keep passing over has noticed. It is pretending not to mind.
A second opinion
Ask the oldest tree a question. Take the lack of an immediate answer as permission to think for yourself.
A late arrival
Set your watch by a clock you trust. If you cannot find one, arrive with flowers.
Uneven numbers
Count your spoons if it comforts you. The forks have their own arrangements.
A little courage
Open the letter. It has already done all the looming it is entitled to.
The quiet corner
Move your chair into the last of the afternoon light. Some opportunities are exactly that small.
A fair exchange
Tell someone a story they have not heard. Ask for one in return. Neither of you needs to improve the ending.
Local knowledge
A crow watching you dig is not necessarily an omen. It may simply know more about worms.
The sleeping house
Tread lightly on the stair that never creaks. It is trying very hard.
An old acquaintance
The face in the steamed window looks familiar because you drew it. Probably.
A timely repair
Mend the small tear before wearing the coat again. Openings have a habit of inviting company.
A welcome interruption
When your train stops between stations, look up from your book. The landscape has been waiting for its turn.
A sensible provision
Take a pencil on your next walk. A marvellous idea is a poor thing to carry home in your hands.
See the original illustrated Almanac
Select the spread to view it full size. Words by William Moore · Illustration by Bethany Clark.
The original Almanac appears on pages 106–107 of The Book of Bitter Ends.
Return to the Bitter Ends contents