Spring. Blooming flowers, lambs, ducklings, the first (decent) strawberries. Happy days. But not entirely. It’s also that awkward in-between period when the weather doesn’t know what to do with itself, jumping from rain to bright skies and sunshine in moments. This year the change was so rapid that we went from relying on the heaters one day to contemplating dragging out the air conditioner the next. This is my first full year in Sydney, so I’m not expert on the subject, however I’m pretty sure that 29C on the last day of Winter (and the week of high 20’s that followed) is decidedly unusual. The change felt quite final when I ventured out for my early morning run on Tuesday and no longer felt the cold bite of air on my face. Instead I was confronted by a warm wind. Sad times, I’m telling you, sad times.
There’s no question that it’s a tantalising season – conjuring thoughts of languid days at the beach. It’s also bittersweet – no more excuses for hours spent curled up on the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate and good book. Am I the only that feels confused with the onset of spring? In the past week I’ve spent hours excitedly trawling the net for summer dresses and bikinis (it’s a tactic designed to prevent me spending money as I’m less tempted to actually buy anything). At the same time, I’ve also come to the depressing realisation that it’s now far too late to try making that Autumn Vegetable Stew recipe I bookmarked way back in April. Behind the times? Just a bit. Continue reading
