It’s getting cold here.
No, I’m not particularly surprised. I’m in Ontario, what did I expect? However despite having lived through one winter in 2011/12, it’s been a while. The bitter wind is a shock to the system.
For a few days we had lovely powdery snow that melted just enough to freeze into trecherous ice and disgusting grey sludge. For a couple of days I got to run through it with my dog, laughing as he barreled through the field with his muzzle in the snow and his mouth open, chomp-chomp-chomping. Then the ice made the journey far less fun.
Thankfully it has melted again for now. I am not bothered by the rain, being a native Brit; I’m used to it. It’s in my genes. Still the recent weather is only a prelude into what’s coming.
I don’t mind. I chose to come here to this gorgeous country. I’m happy here and, most importantly, I have a really warm coat.
That said, I’m noticing a problem: I’m a process knitter. I don’t care much about the result beyond being pleased with myself and admiring the prettiness. Thanks to that, along with a tendency to express my affection with knitwear, most of what I make is given away.
You know what? I don’t even own any handknit socks. My girlfriend, however, owns quite a few pairs by now and I’m most of the way through another pair for her.
I need to work on that but due to a bunch of projects that are way more important, it won’t be happening any time soon.
In the meantime I’ll just have to snuggle up to these guys instead.