I ♥ SEPTEMBER

September is probably my favourite month on Mallorca. The searing heat of August is over – usually washed away by the first storm after summer – and life gets back to normal. Like returning to school or college, there's a feeling of a new beginning.

In July and August, many businesses in Manacor (our nearest town), close at lunchtime for the rest of the day. September sees the return of afternoon trading hours, so we can once again choose which end of the day we want to shop or do other chores in town. Even after five summers here, it's still a bit frustrating that there's a mass shut-down at lunchtime – though who can blame the locals for heading for the beach in such heat?

Manual labour outdoors isn't on my agenda in the height of summer. One job that's impossible is decorating: once the temperature hits 25 degrees, gloss paint turns into something akin to liquid tar.

Come September - after a long break from DIY - I'm champing at the bit to begin the sanding, painting and varnishing necessary to prepare our sun-scorched persianas (slatted shutters) for the ravages of winter. We have a lot of weather in this part of Mallorca . . .

When we're not working on the finca, September's social calendar is pretty rich. A favourite is the Nit de l'Art in Palma – a celebration of art in the city's galleries and streets. Palma has more art galleries in relation to population size than any other city in Spain, so it's a full evening of browsing, partying and people-watching. And the last weekend of the month sees September out in fine style, with the wine festival in Binissalem. Another souvenir wine-tasting glass for the collection . . .

As the September days shorten, my early morning walks don't need to be quite so early, so I can linger in bed for another quarter of an hour and still enjoy the new day's freshness before the sun pops over the side of the valley to warm things up.

September also brings a brief ornithological treat to our valley: the bee-eaters spend a few days checking out the local scene (but not eating bees, apparently). We're always stupidly excited when we hear their distinctive calls, and rush outside with the binoculars in hope of a sighting. Their exotically colourful plumage, gliding and swooping add up to a fantastic flying display. Within days, they're off, until this time next year.

And finally, September is when my Dad always has the second of his two holidays a year with us. Before we moved to Mallorca, he'd never holidayed on the island; now he's been out nine times and has come to love the place and its warm and hospitable people almost as much as I do. And
September's weather here is much better than in the UK!