How to Talk About October in English | Easy English Podcast

Hello everyone and welcome back to Everyday English Academy, where we make English simple and enjoyable. I'm Sarah. And I'm Mike. Hello to all of our wonderful listeners wherever you are in the world right now. I found out something this week that's been bothering me for days. The word October comes from the Latin word for eight, octo, like an octopus with eight legs, but October is the tenth month. Wait, why? Because the old Roman calendar started in March, so October really was month number eight. Then January and February were added at the start of the year And nobody ever fixed the names So the other months are wrong too? September, November, and December, all of them September should be the seventh month November the ninth And December the tenth So for about 2,000 years everyone's just accepted it Everyone just puts up with it Nobody likes it, nobody can change it, so we all live with it. And the two months that broke the system were January and February. It had to be February. You'd blame February for anything. I'd blame February for everything. Okay, then I've got one for you. Because I looked something up too. You know Oktoberfest, the huge festival in Munich? Most of it happens in September. That can't be right. It usually starts in the second half of September and ends in the first week of October. It started in October about 200 years ago, but they moved it earlier because the weather in September was better. So even the people who named their festival after October didn't want to be outside in October? That's the best argument for your side I've heard so far. And that's my whole point. I think October is secretly the worst month of the year. Hold on. You're saying something is worse than February? You've complained about February every single year since I've known you. I know. That's how serious this is. February is cold and dark, but at least it's honest about it. And October isn't? October pretends. It gives you three beautiful sunny days at the start. Everyone posts photos of trees, and then it rains for four weeks and gets dark at six. I couldn't disagree more. I think October is the best month of the year, and I've got reasons. Go on, then. The air, first. Summer always feels a bit heavy to me, too hot and too busy. Then, one morning in October, you step outside, it's cold and fresh, and the leaves are turning, so the whole street is yellow and orange and red. Is that something you grew up with? There was a road out of my town with trees on both sides, and in October it looked like it was on fire. My dad used to drive us down it on Sunday afternoons just to look. You get that for about five days. Then the leaves come off, it rains, and they turn into a brown, slippery layer on the ground. I've nearly fallen over twice outside my metro station this week. Five beautiful days is still five more than February gives you. I'm not answering that. And the colors aren't even new, by the way. I read about this last week. The yellow and orange are in the leaves all summer. You just can't see them because the green covers them. So where does the green go? In autumn, it breaks down and the other colors finally show. The red is the only color the tree actually makes in the autumn. So, all summer, the trees were hiding their real colors. For months. And then October comes, and they finally show them. So really, October is the honest month. Good try. And if you're enjoying two people arguing about a month, a like on this video really helps us. So, what's your strongest argument? The weather. Where I live, October basically means rain. Gray sky, wet streets, and a cold wind all at the same time It's miserable That's a bit harsh It's not just me Listen to people at work Nobody walks into the office in October and says What a lovely morning They shake their umbrella and say Miserable out there, isn't it? But people love saying that It's the easiest way to start a conversation with someone you don't know. You say, miserable out there, they agree, and suddenly, you're friends. Friends who are both wet. Wet friends are still friends. And miserable works for people as well. If you were miserable on holiday, you weren't a little bit bored. You were really, really unhappy. I was miserable on holiday once, and it was in October. I went to a seaside town and it rained for six days. On the seventh day, there was hail. What did you do all week? Not much. Everything was closed for the season and the only cafe that was open had one table and someone was already sitting at it. So I spent most of the week in my hotel room watching game shows in a language I didn't understand. That's what happens when you go to the seaside in October. Which is why I'd choose September every time. You still get warm afternoons, it's still light in the evening, and you don't need an umbrella every single day. There's a sentence learners often get stuck on right there. If you want to say which month you like more using prefer, what's the little word in the middle? Is it prefer September to October, or prefer September than October? A quick clue. Prefer doesn't work like better. With prefer, the second thing gets to. I prefer September to October. And I prefer October to September. So we're completely stuck. And it isn't only the rain. It's the cold mornings when it's not winter yet, but it's not warm either. I stand on the metro platform and I'm shivering because the wind comes straight down the tunnel. And then the train's too warm. Much too warm. It's so hot inside that I want to take my coat off, but there's no space to move my arms. That's why I wear a few thin layers instead of one big coat. If I'm too warm, I take one off. If I'm too cold, I put it back on. It's much easier than carrying a winter coat around all day. That's very sensible, and I'm not a sensible person in October. I also own about nine umbrellas. Nine? Every time it starts pouring and I don't have one, I buy a cheap one from the little shop outside the metro station. Then it breaks in the wind, or I leave it on a train. So where are they all now? There's one at my office, one at a friend's flat, one at my parents' house, and probably five more on trains somewhere in the city. The man in that shop must love October even more than I do. He's probably the only person in the city who does. Him and you. And he's got a much better reason than me. Every rainy morning, he makes money. And you can't defend October weather. Not after your walk last year. That was one bad day. Tell everyone what happened and let them decide. Okay. Last October, I went home to visit my parents. and on the Sunday, I went for a long walk in the countryside. I just bought new boots, light brown suede, very soft. Not the best boots for the countryside. No, but I checked the forecast before I left and it said sunny all day. So I walked out past the last houses, along the edge of the fields, and I felt great. I think I know where this is going. About 40 minutes from the nearest house, it started to rain. just a little at first, then more, and then suddenly it was pouring, so heavy that I couldn't see the other side of the field. The kind of rain where it feels like someone's emptening a bucket over your head. And I didn't have an umbrella, so I looked around for somewhere to take shelter, anywhere I could get out of the rain, a doorway, a bus stop, anything, and in that whole field, there was one small tree. One small tree doesn't keep anybody dry. It definitely doesn't. Most of its leaves had already fallen, but I ran to it anyway, and when I got there, there was already a cow standing under it. So the cow took shelter first. The cow got there first, and she made it very clear that it was her tree. We stood there together for 20 minutes, a big brown cow and me, Both getting wet, neither of us saying anything. I said sorry to her a few times, just in case. And how did it end? I was soaked. I was shivering, my hands were so cold they were numb, and the boots were finished. When I finally got back, my mom opened the door, looked down, and said, Where are your new boots? Were they that bad? They didn't look like boots anymore. And two days later, I came down with a really bad cold. A whole week in bed. So the evidence is one ruined pair of boots, one cow, and a week in bed. And you still think October is the best month of the year? I do. The cold wasn't October's fault. That was the forecaster's fault. That phrase you just used is the one you'll need this month. When you start getting ill, you come down with something. A cold, the flu, a sore throat, usually nothing too serious. And when you feel it starting, the sentence is, I think I'm coming down with something. The place you'll use it most is on the phone to work. Let's do it. You're my boss and it's 7 in the morning. Hello? Hi, it's me. I'm really sorry, but I think I'm coming down with something, so I'm going to stay home today and rest. Okay, feel better soon. Interesting how this always happens on a Monday. That's a terrible boss. That's a realistic boss. Fine, but the sentence still works. It's polite, it's short, and nobody needs any more details than that. My problem isn't usually getting ill, though. In October, I'm just run down. Those two are worth putting side by side, because they're easy to mix up. Being run down comes first. You're tired, you've had no energy for days, and you're not sleeping well. But you're not ill yet. And coming down with something is when it actually starts. When the cold actually arrives. So if you're run down and you don't rest, you'll probably come down with something. I always know I'm run down when I start having five coffees a day instead of four. And I cry at ads on the metro. and I know exactly why it happens. It's the clocks. Oh no, I love the clocks. If you live in a country where the clocks change, you'll know what I mean. In most of Europe, it happens on the last Sunday of October. In the United States, it's about a week later. One night, the clocks go back an hour and everybody gets an extra hour of sleep. Which is the best night of the year. A free hour. Nobody gives you a free hour in any other month. That hour is a trap. You get one extra hour in bed, and then for the next five months, it's dark when you leave work. Nobody mentions that part. And the week after the change, I'm so drowsy. My body has no idea what time it is. Last year, I fell asleep on the metro and woke up two stops past mine. The clocks got me last year too, but the other way I forgot they'd changed and I arrived at my friend's house for lunch an hour early He opened the door in his pajamas holding a toothbrush What did you do? I helped him cook and I was the only person there who'd slept an extra hour So I was in a great mood It's the evenings I really notice though Every week the sun leaves the party before everyone else There's a tiny bit of grammar hiding in that, and a lot of learners trip over it. Imagine you're telling a friend how the evenings are changing at this time of year. Is it gets dark earlier or gets dark more early? Think about the word early. It's short, and it ends in a Y, so the Y changes and we add ER, just like happy and happier. It gets dark earlier every day. It gets dark earlier every day. I'll give you that one. And it does affect me. Every year around the middle of October, I feel a bit down. Not really sad, and not for any special reason. Just a bit low. Like someone's turned my brightness down. You're definitely not the only one. Lots of people feel down when the days get shorter. and it's a gentle way to say it. I've been feeling a bit down lately. It doesn't sound too dramatic. No, and for some people, it's much stronger than that. Strong enough that doctors have a name for it. Seasonal Affective Disorder. I get a small version of it on Sunday evenings when the weekend's nearly over. What helps me is daylight. At lunch, I sit by the window and in the afternoon, I walk to the metro the long way while it's still light. I do something similar. 20 minutes of walking after work, even when it's already dark, and no phone. I sleep much better afterwards. As long as you stay out of fields. I stay in the park now. No fields, no cows. Most nights, though, I don't want to walk. I want to go home, get under a blanket, and hibernate until March. Do you know how deeply bears actually hibernate? I was reading about this. A black bear's heart can slow down to under 10 beats a minute. And they can go for months without eating, without drinking, and without going to the toilet. Months without the toilet? Their bodies recycle almost everything. They just sleep. That's my dream. Not the toilet part. The sleeping part. People use hibernate about themselves all the time, too. If a friend says, I'm going to hibernate this weekend, they're staying home under a blanket and please don't invite them anywhere. I've already told my friends. From November the 1st, I'm hibernating. What does that look like exactly? A big blanket, a lot of tea, every crime series I haven't watched yet, and soup delivered to my door. I go out for work, and that's it. Some animals do the opposite, though. When it gets cold, instead of sleeping, they migrate. They travel somewhere warmer for the winter, and then they come back in the spring. Like birds? Birds, mostly. And there's one bird, the Arctic tern, that migrates from the Arctic all the way down to the Antarctic and back again every single year. That's around 70,000 kilometers. Every year? Every year. Over its whole life, that's like flying to the moon and back a few times. I can't make it to the gym twice a week. And you'll like this part. Because it flies from one end of the world to the other, it gets two summers every year. It probably sees more daylight than any other animal on the planet. Two summers and no real winter? That's the bird I want to be. So bears hibernate and birds migrate. One stays home and sleeps, and the other one packs up and goes somewhere sunny. If I were a bird, I'd fly to a small town by the sea. Somewhere in the south, with one good cafe, and sit in the sun every morning until lunch. My aunt and uncle basically do that. They're retired, and every November they drive down to the coast and stay there until March. The whole family calls them the birds. My aunt calls them that too. She phones my mom and says, the birds are leaving on Friday. That's my retirement plan. I'm going to need the phone number of that flat. You'd miss the city after two weeks. Maybe three. They'd be three very good weeks. Some of our listeners don't need to migrate at all, though. If you're in Australia or Argentina or South Africa, October isn't autumn, it's spring. The days are getting longer and warmer, the flowers are coming out, and people are getting ready for the beach. So somewhere in the world, there's a version of me who loves October. And a version of me who complains about it all month. Do they have Halloween there, too, in the spring? Some people do, and it's getting more popular. But it must feel a bit strange. Ghosts and pumpkins, and it's sunny and warm outside. So tell us in the comments what October looks like where you are. Is it cold and rainy, or warm and sunny? Does it feel like the start of winter, or the start of summer? And if it's beautiful where you are, describe it in lots of detail. Sarah could really use the sunshine, even if it's only in writing. Okay, my next argument, pumpkin flavored everything. You can't use that against October. That's one of the best things about it. Pumpkin coffee, pumpkin cake, pumpkin candles, pumpkin soap. On the 1st of October, everything in the shops turns orange. And do you know what's actually in pumpkin spice? Pumpkin, I'd hope. Usually no pumpkin at all It's cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and cloves It's just the spices people used to put in pumpkin pie Wait, really? Really You're drinking the spices from a pie without the pie I don't care I order it for the name Pumpkin Spice Latte sounds like a warm blanket in a cup You'd order anything if the name sounded nice Probably true. Last week, I ordered something called a maple cloud. I still don't know what was in it. Was it good? It was very sweet, it was very expensive, and I'd order it again tomorrow. This is from a man who eats the same sandwich for lunch every single day. Lunch is lunch. Coffee is an adventure. There's one thing in the shops in October that annoys me even more than pumpkin, though. Christmas. Christmas. I walked into a supermarket last week, on the first of October, and there was already a whole wall of Christmas chocolate, right next to the Halloween things. That's the one thing about October that makes me angry. It gets attacked from both sides. Summer's still in the shops at the start, Christmas is in the shops at the end, and October gets about two weeks in the middle to be itself. Wait, are we agreeing on something? I think we are. Don't tell anyone. Anyway, I've accepted it. I put up with pumpkin everything, just like I put up with the rain. And that phrase reminds me of your colleague, the Christmas story. Priya. Her English is great, and she made one tiny mistake last Christmas that people at work still talk about. Her mother-in-law was coming to stay for a week, and at the office party, Priya told everyone, this year I'm putting up with my mother-in-law for a whole week. Oh, no. What she meant was that her mother-in-law was staying at her house. She was giving her a bed. In English, that's putting her up. But putting up with her means you're accepting someone who annoys you because you can't change the situation. Was the mother-in-law there? Standing right behind her holding a piece of cake. What did Priya do? She sent her flowers the next day with a card that said, we're so happy you're staying with us. She checked every single word with me before she wrote it. So, put someone up and they've got a bed, put up with someone and they've got a problem. Let's say a few of these out loud. Repeat each sentence after us, even if you're cooking or out for a walk. I think I'm coming down with something. I can't put up with this rain. Let's take shelter until it stops. I've been feeling a bit down lately. I'm gonna hibernate this weekend. Saying them out loud is what makes them stick, so when it starts pouring this month, you'll already have the words ready. And maybe an umbrella. Right. Give me one real reason to love October, then. Not the trees, not the clocks, and not a drink that's named after a pie. The harvest. I grew up in a small farming town, and October was harvest time, when the farmers bring in everything they've grown all year. Apples, potatoes, pumpkins, corn, and everybody helped, even the kids. We were sent out to pick apples after school, and we probably ate as many as we picked. I can imagine you up a tree eating apples. Up a ladder, usually. When I was about nine, the ladder moved and I fell straight into a wheelbarrow full of apples. I was fine. The apples weren't. Did anyone see? Half the street. And at the end of the harvest, the whole town had a festival in the village hall. Long tables, homemade soup, far too many pies, and one man playing the accordion very badly, the same three songs every year. Do they still have it? They do. My mom still makes pumpkin soup for it in a pot so big that my dad has to carry it to the hall for her. Do people in the city still talk about the harvest? I don't think I've heard anyone mention it in years. You still hear it in Harvest Moon. That's the name for the full moon closest to the start of autumn. It comes up very soon after the sun goes down, a few nights in a row. Why did that matter? Because in the old days, farmers could keep working in the fields after dark. It often looks big and orange, low in the sky. I think I've seen that, and I never knew it had a name. And your festival sounds really nice. The closest thing we have in the city is a pile of pumpkins outside the supermarket. And my birthday's this month, which doesn't hurt. The 23rd, isn't it? And talking about birthdays, there's one little word that a lot of learners get stuck on. When you tell someone the month your birthday is, is it on October or in October? Think about size. A whole month is a big piece of time, and big pieces of time take in. In summer, in October, in 2026. My birthday is in October. Okay, I'll admit one good thing. Not about October in general. About one night. Which night? The 31st. I love Halloween. It's the one night in October that isn't gray. Everyone's out in the street, everyone's dressed up, and for one evening, the dark is actually fun. I had no idea. You've been attacking October for 20 minutes. I've been attacking the other 30 days. And I'll admit something else. I go all out. I bought my costume in August. In August? This year, I'm going as a storm cloud. It's big and gray and soft, and there are little lights inside that flash on and off like lightning. If I have to live with this weather all month, I'm going to wear it for one night. That's brilliant. And that's what going all out means. You put a lot of time, effort, or money into something, much more than you really need to. Like people do for weddings. Families go all out for weddings, with flowers everywhere and a live band. And some people go all out for Halloween and start planning in the summer. And did you know the first carved Halloween lanterns weren't pumpkins? In Ireland and Scotland, people used to carve faces into turnips. Turnips? They're tiny and really hard. Very hard, and much scarier. If you look at old photos of them, they look like small, angry ghosts. When people from Ireland moved to America, they found pumpkins, which were bigger and much easier to carve. So they changed. So the turnip was the original and the pumpkin just took its job Like a lot of things in October, the pumpkin isn't quite what you think it is First the spice, now the lanterns, the pumpkin's having a very bad day So my hibernation officially starts on November the 1st The storm cloud needs one good night out before the winter Do you dress up every year? Every year since university. Last year, I was a traffic light. The year before, a slice of toast with a little square of butter on the front. How did people know you were toast? The butter helped. People in my building still talk about it. And now the kids there always knock on my door first because they know I'll open it in costume. Halloween was never big where I grew up. We had the harvest festival instead, and I usually go home that weekend anyway because of the bakery. The one near the roundabout? That's the one. Every October, right after the apple harvest, they start making apple and cinnamon buns. Only in October, never in any other month. Why only October? I've never asked. I think it's just tradition. The whole street smells of them at seven in the morning. And you walk past and your feet just stop. You can't get those buns in February. You always get a bit emotional about that bakery. I do, and I'm not going to pretend I don't. My mom sent me a photo of the buns yesterday. No message, just the photo. She wants you to come home. And it's working. I'll go at the end of the month. And this time, I'll check the forecast three times before I go anywhere near a field. So, is October the worst month of the year? I think we need an answer. Then let me give you my last argument. October is the only month where you can wear a proper jacket, eat soup, and walk through orange leaves. That's three things. You also get a free hour of sleep, and you can dress up as a storm cloud all in the same few weeks. Plus the apple buns. No other month comes close. Okay, I've changed my mind a little. October isn't the worst month of the year. Thank you. It's the second worst. February is still the worst. I've known that for years, and nothing today has changed it. Second worst. I can live with that. Last year it was the worst. Don't get too comfortable. Before we go, let's go back through today's words. Give me the forecast for my week. Here's the weather for Sarah's week. Monday is miserable. Gray skies, a cold wind, and lots of people at the office saying, miserable out there, isn't it? Accurate so far. On Tuesday afternoon, it's pouring. If you're outside, take shelter in a cafe or a doorway. Please don't use a small tree. Because the tree is taken. The tree is taken. By Wednesday, Sarah is run down. Five coffees and not enough sleep since the clocks changed. And on Thursday morning, she's calling her boss to say she's coming down with something. On a Thursday, so the boss can't say anything about Mondays. On Friday, she's feeling a bit down, so she sits by the window at lunch like a plant. And she puts up with the rain, the dark, and her friend talking about October all the time. And the weekend. On Saturday, she gets under a blanket and starts practicing how to hibernate. Meanwhile, somewhere above the ocean, an Arctic tern is migrating 70,000 kilometers without complaining once. Good for the tern. And at the end of the month, a large storm cloud is expected over the city for one night only. This cloud has gone all out. It has lights. Before you go, try this. Write one sentence in the comments using one of today's words. Make it something true, about your week or the weather where you are. Something like, I'm a bit run down this week. Short and simple is perfect. One real sentence about your own life is worth more than 10 from a textbook. And if this made your October a little brighter, give it a like and subscribe so you don't miss the next one. We're here every week, whatever the weather. Even in February? Especially in February. The worst month. Officially. And what happens to the storm cloud after Halloween? Does it hibernate too? No, clouds don't hibernate. They migrate. Bye, everyone, and maybe take an umbrella.