Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Do you know what's really ridiculous? What I'm about to do now. I'm going to complain about the cold.
Yes, the cold.
I'm ashamed to admit that it's currently 18 degrees outside. And none of your fancy Fahrenheit degrees. No, that's 18 degrees Celsius. In Fahrenheit, that's 64 degrees. Which I understand is summer in some places.
Okay, so when you people living in places that get actual snow stop laughing, let me try and justify myself just a little. As much as I can.
Last year I spent part of the winter on holidays in Victoria, where it gets properly cold. And that was fine, for two reasons. Firstly, I had the clothes for it. And secondly, they build the houses for it.
In my house, I have windows that don't close. I mean, they certainly haven't closed all the way since I bought the place, and I've kind of given up trying. Also, I have wooden louvres that can't keep possums out, let alone the cold. And my walls? Are exactly one plank thick.
In summer, this is great. It allows what little breeze there is to get inside and do it's work. It means that my house doesn't turn into a sauna.
In winter, not so great.
Here's how I shower in winter.
I wake up. I hurry to the bathroom, which has wooden louvres. I shower as quickly as humanly possible. I stand in the shower cubicle not wanting to open the door and let the steam escape. I make a mad dash back to my bedroom, where I huddle under the covers for another half an hour until I stop shivering. Some time later in the day I may attempt to get up again.
Places with deep, abiding winters tend to shape their citizens into the hardy stock that can handle that. Also, they have interior heating and suchlike. When the temperature plummets here -- and it does occasionally plummet further than this! -- all we do is lump more blankets on the bed and wish we had socks without holes in them.
So that's why the blogging has been a little slow lately. Blog? Pfft. I'm hibernating.
But our summers... you guys, our summers would kill you!