So we march steadily on into winter – at last; it’s been
quite a long time coming, but the day temperature now rises only to 17°, and it’s
down to 11° in Sydney. But if the sun shines it’s still too hot, midday, to sit
out of the wind on the patio with a book. I must say that the cold enlivens my
82-year-old bones, and the morning walk with the dogs is much brisker –
certainly than it is in a temperature of 25° or more with 90% humidity! The
morning joggers have more or less disappeared, apart from a few shivering
schoolchildren running around the oval under the jurisdiction of a teacher
comfortably swathed in wool. I suppose I really should turn down the central
heating in the house – but I shan’t. In fact, Australian houses, at least those
built before say the 1950s, are built to
keep everyone cool in summer, and so get pretty cold in winter, and even when
it’s 30° outside it’s comfortable inside. On the other hand at this time of
year it gets pretty cold. Onward and upward. Derek.
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