The fire went on a 0630hrs this morning after the Coco walk.
It was fine yesterday. Bit of a breeze, nothing dramatic. Today the weather turned up with a clipboard and an attitude.
5 degrees. Feels like 3. Wind coming in off the Severn like it’s got a personal grudge. I stepped outside this morning and immediately thought, “Ah. So this is how it’s going to be.”
Coco doesn’t care. She’s out there sniffing the same patch of grass she sniffed in July, tail up, completely unbothered.
We spend September and October pretending the weather’s still “fresh.” Then one Tuesday in November it drops the pretence and you remember why we invented central heating and strong opinions about other people’s heating. The light goes at half four. The dog still needs an hour. The SkiErg starts looking like the sensible option again.
The cold’s honest. It doesn’t try to convince you it’s still summer. It just turns up, takes the temperature with it, and waits to see if you’re still going outside or whether you’ve decided you’re one of those people who now “doesn’t do the cold.” I love the cold.
I’m still going outside. Mostly because the dog would judge me. Also because if I stop now I’ll be soft by Christmas and I’m not having that.
Wind’s got some bite in it though. Fair play. Tree energy from last week.
