Monday, January 7, 2008

ah, summer

I hate hot weather.

In the middle of the hottest Melbourne summer on record, I dread what summer will be like in years to come if they're right about global warming. I think I might move to the UK, where the grey, misty climate perfectly suits my skin (Celtic pale with freckles) and soul (a lifetime of English children's literature).

I am engaged in an ongoing debate with my 9 year old daughter about which is better, hot or cold weather. She goes online every morning to check the weather report. A predicted maxiumum of 18°C plunges her into despair and morning grumpiness. But predictions of 30°C or even 40°C cause her to exclaim with delight (and plunge me into despair and grumpiness, I admit it).

So now we've sweated through a 42 degree day in a holiday house with no air conditioning, what does Lizzy say?

I don't like really hot weather, but I do like the way it feels, tastes and smells.

I like the taste of icypoles and icecreams, and that I'm allowed to eat them when it's hot.

I like the feel of sand and water on my skin.

I like the smell of sunburn cream.

I just don't like the flies.
She almost makes me love hot weather myself.

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