Weather Shmeather

How are you taking the change of season in your stride?

What, we've only been back here at Tale of Three for three weeks and we're already talking about the weather? Well, pardon the pun, but Sydney's climate leaves me a little cold. It's all good and well if you live the beach lifestyle, but I prefer my seasons in quadruplicate, and I don't mind if, when they change, they stay changed.

A few weeks ago, it appeared we'd bypassed spring and were already in the midst of a typical Sydney summer. It's the humidity I can't stand (which is why I wouldn't cope living over there with you, Aimee). Sydney just can't seem to do hot, or even warm, without sweat. The summer before last, heavily pregnant with twins, I watched the weather reports obsessively. Anything edging the high 20s was unbearable, and the few days that hit 40 were horrific.

Yet, for all I endure all summer long, we don't even get a decent winter to match it. I'm a knitter, for godsake. I need a climate that requires scarves and wrist-warmers and woolly hats and glorious cowls. I think I wore my boots three times this winter past, and my coat hardly got a look in.

Spring, of course, is lovely, as is autumn. But not as lovely as in the countryside where there are gardens and trees and rolling fields. And how lovely can lovely be when it only lasts three minutes before the onslaught of the awful hot or the mediocre cool?

Get me out of this city, I say, and off somewhere pastoral where there are four distinct seasons that one can plan by, grow by, cook by, knit by and live by.