*is being typically British and talking about the weather*

It's freezing here in Cardiff. We had a so-so summer, with only a few really nice days dotted here and there, and a fairly mild winter so far. Technically speaking, winter generally runs from mid-November until early March, but in this part of the country we have one week of autumn sandwiched between summer and winter, so winter starts earlier.

So far we've had enough rain to replenish the Atlantic ocean. Or so it seems. I can usually forget all about the length of the grass in my front garden between October and April, because it never rises above four inches or so. Not so, this year.  I actually have real green grass in my front garden at the moment (though the back garden still looks like a dying Sherwood Forest). It looks like it will have to be cut again, which is unheard of this side of Christmas,

Still, as I say, it has been exceptionally mild this winter so far. Right up until last weekend. Since Sunday, we have had nothing but rain, wind, and more rain. Of course, it always rains on a Tuesday, because that is the day when I do my weekly grocery shop and have to take a trip into Canton (the nearest shopping area to me). Said trip involves a bus journey, and a fair bit of walking around between the shops that I frequent in my weekly search for a bargain. So of course, it has to rain on a Tuesday, because that is when I am out and about. I call it Tara-Karma (which means nothing works in my favour). Other days of the week are obviously perfectly suited to shopping expeditions (unless I do my shopping on a Wednesday, which of course means that Tuesday is dry, and Wednesday is wet. Very wet).

Anywho, as I was saying, nothing but rain and wind since the weekend. And it's suddenly turned colder than that forgotten bottle of beer at the bottom of the freezer (you know the one, the bottle that you stash when you get home from work in readiness for drinking an hour or so later, only an hour or so later you are eating a meal and have forgotten all about that bottle of beer you stashed so diligently).

And when I say cold, I really mean freezing. Or, as we Taffies like to say, freeeez -en (with emphasis on the 'r', almost a purr, you understand). I have the central heating turned on full, the gas fire burning merrily, and am wearing a cardigan that is possible older than God, but still I am not properly warm. Brrr.

But I actually don't mind the cold. It's much easier to get warm than it is to cool down. I'm one of those miserable people who hates the summer. And I do mean hate. If the sun is shining, you can guarantee that I will be cranky. Everything is just so much more of an effort when it is warm. The walk back from the school every day exhausts me. And I drink so much water that I spend half of the summer having a wee (sorry if that's too much information *snorts*). And if that's not enough reason to dislike summer, then there's also the fact that no matter how many windows you have open, how little you wear to bed, and how high the setting on the fan is, you're still going to feel like you are being cooked when you are trying to get to sleep.

This is why I don't mind the cold. It could be colder than a deep-freeze outside, with the wind blowing a gale, and the rain coming at you from all directions (including upwards, if you live around here), but when you get home you can forget about it. You can make a hot drink, pull the sofa up to the fire, and warm your frozen toes. And if your ancient cardi and heating sources aren't enough, you can grab your duvet and huddle into its coziness.

As an added bonus, if, like me, you are one of those people who puts their Christmas tree up a little on the early side *shifty*, you can also enjoy the wonderful glow that the tree lights bestow on your room of an evening. All year round, the room is just a room, plainly decorated with the obligatory pieces of furniture in their allotted spaces. Now that I've put my tree up, the room is transformed. In the daytime, it's still just a room, but as soon as its dark (around about 4pm now), we have lovely sparkly reflections on our otherwise drab walls, making the room look a little bit like a festive disco.  Although there is no heat coming from the tree, the room feels infinitely warmer.

So yes, I guess you could say that I love winter. I'd happily agree to eleven months of winter every single year, with one month of summer-ness for the kids to enjoy. Although, when I think about it, we get that already....