A few weeks ago, I decided to take the wool doona off our bed. Since then the weather has fussed and fidgeted, cool to downright cold by night, teasing glimpses of warmth about 2pm are swiftly blown away by gusty evening breezes.
A week or so ago I went shopping and bought a couple of lovely tshirts, nice enough to wear to work when the weather warms up. Since then it has been cold, colder and slightly less cold.
Yesterday I enjoyed some warm sunshine in the backyard, promising myself that I would wash the dogs this afternoon – so today started lovely, when I was too busy to do anything outside, and as soon as I was collecting children from various places the clouds thickened and the drops on the windscreen changed from soft-shoe-shuffle to enthusiastic tap-dancer – now the wind is being far too vigorous about throwing the rain against the windows.
I tried to manipulate things this week by casting on a new cardigan in a glorious 50/50 wool silk 10ply – glorious cabled collar and button bands – but the weather is not deceived. It notes the short sleeves, and my history of putting things aside to await more seasonable temperatures, and decides not to be fooled by my pathetic attempts at misdirection.
Therefore I apologise to everyone in Hobart for helping to delay the long-anticipated warmer weather. I promise to rug up in many warm layers of clothing all of this week, to put extra blankets on the bed, to wash my car, to hang all washing up inside the house, to bring any and all potplants inside, to forget my hat and sunscreen, to make lots of warm, hearty dishes, and to dig out any and all thick and heavy knitting projects and bury myself in the deepest, warmest, heaviest pile of yarn and knitting I can concoct until such time as I can convince the local climate that I give up, give in and declare myself completely at the mercy of the elements.