And it's only going to get colder

 As much as I have been in denial the evidence is now irrefutable.  I’m not sure what it was exactly that led to the admission.  Was it the overnight 12 degree drop in temperature? Was it the first appearance of vin brulee in Treviso? Was it witnessing the first of the Christmas lights being installed?  Or was it having to flee Venice at siren sound to avoid the 1.4 meter high water? Whatever it was there’s no doubt about it winter is here and given the time and severity of the temperature drop it looks like it’s going to be a long and very cold one. 

I find it depressing to think of having to get through the next four months of cold wet weather.  I’m not one for winter sports – unless sitting under a blanket with a pot of tea and a good book can be classed a sport  - and at times like these I begin to think of my home in Melbourne and the fact that they are heating up for the summer.  When I talk to Trevesians about the winter months they happily inform me what a mild winter is was last year sending me into heart palpitations.  I mean I know how cold it was last year – there was a temperature gauge outside my building and for two straight weeks it didn’t get above zero and I can’t conceive of any way you could describe that as mild.

This year I’m determined not to be caught short in the warm clothes department – given that I’m now in possession of six coats (can’t believe I own six coats and it would have been seven were it not for the fact I gifted one away) this year I’m stocking up on winter woollies – hats, jumpers, socks you name it and most pressing of all a good set of gloves, I can’t believe I got through the last winter without adequate hand coverage.  The other important thing for the cause of getting Raji through the winter is a good stack of reading material for the hibernation – any recommendations?

Not that winter is all bad – there are the roast chestnuts and warm spicy wine, Christmas markets in picture postcard towns, misty mornings in Venice and warm inviting bars.  As lovely as that is I can’t pretend that I’m not waiting for the day when I can return the hated puffy yet warm coat back to its home in the forgotten part of the wardrobe (next to the clothes that don’t fit after a year in the vicinity of awesome gelato.)