the post in which I whine about the weather
The weather people pre-empted this winter with a prediction that it would seem long and cold. They were right. Their point being that the pattern of the last few years was atypically mild and this year was a return to winters of old. At first we didn’t mind in the hope that it would bring rain but the grey drizzle still sees our total water storage at less than 1/3 full. We began the season with almost blitz-like cheerfulness every time clouds opened up but now, for most of us, we’ve definitely lost our mojo.
So we’ve been doing what we do best. Moan. Over the last few weeks it has started to reach a crescendo and I can assure you I am one of the loudest voices in the choir. Almost every conversation involves the line “I am so over winter”. Perhaps it is because the magnolias have been in bloom for a good month now and other trees have sprouted traditional pink, spring blossoms. However the sky remains grey and the light tepid at best.
False alarm: two weeks ago - the double rainbow
I am missing my fuel-inefficient, wilfully polluting open fire. Some days my bones have ached not with cold but for the longing to sit beside the burning logs with cats, a bottle of red or a pot of herbal tea and music playing. Instead I have taken to bed in a big way. I claim it is helping save the planet, being heated by the odd feline and my doona. But really I am grieving the fire. While the ‘new’ living area can be made warmer than it ever was, thanks to the touch of a button, it is just not the same. The fire was a great silent witness. It saw me through so many ups and downs. There were tears and laughter, great ruminations and some late night dancing.
I’m told spring is just around the corner but til then, you’ll find me curled up with the cats, spending far too much time on a wireless connection.
One upside though - the kitties certainly aren’t complaining.
gratuitous pussy pic: the step-sisters cuddle at last!