Y’all, I’ve made it through my first month of winter! I feel a little bit like Garth does here – awkward, proud, bad-haired. I can’t really blame the hair on winter, but I can blame my disgraceful penchant for layering like a hobo, and I will.
In my mind, there would be icy winds. My hands would freeze within seconds of leaving the confines of my home. I would be crying in corners, clutching cups of tea and Pinning posts about Queensland.
There’s still time.
I went out on the weekend, and caught up with a friend. “This is the worst it gets,” she told me, and I want to believe her. Because I can DO THIS! I can do this chilly, single-digit weather. Mostly because I don’t have to leave the house and I can wear pants tucked into my socks 24/7. It’s not as bad as I thought (again, there’s still time), and it’s probably never going to be as bad as the time I got off the gondolier at Hakuba, Japan, and the blood in my extremities vacated like rats leaving a sinking ship, keeping my vital organs warm, but rendering my hands two painful lumps. That’s with me dressed for the snow, and wearing ski gloves. I ended up swinging them madly, hoping to get some blood flowing. It didn’t work. I didn’t know hands could hurt like that, just from the cold. I DON’T DO WELL IN SNOW, I’ve learned. It’s pretty to look at, but a pain in the ass to get around in.
I mean, look. Fairytale stuff:
Every day when it isn’t like that, I am happy. It’s almost like when I had two babies 18 months apart, and just assumed every single day was going to be a newborn/toddler shitfight. And when it was manageable, it felt like gold-medal success.
I fully assume that in a few months I’ll be well over it, but for now we’re doing OK.
A few things I’ve learned about Victorian winters (which I have apparently forgotten, considering I had one pretty much every year until I turned 10):
- I’m a butter-leaver-outerer. It is insanity to me to realise the butter is actually colder and harder out of the fridge than it would be in.
- I keep forgetting to put the milk away. Apparently this does not kill me.
- The sun rising at 7.30am is probably going to mess with my head for many years to come. I mean, look how wigged out I was here. I was like “WHAT IS THIS SORCERY?” when the world was doing its regular thing, only I was in a different part of it.
- There is a five-thousand-degree burning ball of nuclear-fusing plasma in the sky, which normally radiates heat. This heat does not reach Melbourne.
- I have bought three coats and it is still not enough.
- For the first time I can remember, I will probably suffer from vitamin D deficiency. I had grand plans of getting outside in the fresh air even if it is chilly, and I’ve done that pretty much never.
- These things called socks that only other people wear are actually a necessary item of clothing. Who knew?!
- Some plants actually flower now. I did not know that.
- Central heating is a glorious, glorious creation.
- If you forget your washing, that shit can stay in the machine all day and be ok. My forgetful washer-woman self loves this.
- People like this blow my mind. You like this kind of weather? I mean, I see its charm. I think it’s a nice change. But it wouldn’t be my favourite season. By a long shot.
How are you doing winter?