I am always a little bit sad when summer starts turning into autumn and the feeling of long, lazy days draws to a close. But fear not – let’s look on the bright (or slightly foggy) side and embrace the positives of the passing of our sunniest season…
I know I’m not alone in hating the wasps, the flies and other irritating winged things that like to fly into your wine. Peskier than Anthea Turner on that terrible Lottery advert, they will keep coming around to bite you. Hooray for the frost that seems to see them off (but sadly Anthea will need something a little stronger, I fear).
This may seem an odd one but more than once this summer I have come unstuck and had to make a speedy exit from the car park I was residing in, after open-window encounters. My biggest faux par was loudly stating “ooh, Jason Statham has let himself go” in the Aldi car park, which did not go down well with the large balding man standing next to my (forgotten) opened window. Air con is much safer socially, but safer still is a winter chill, meaning windows remain closed (and comments remain unheard).
At the risk of sounding very Jeremy Corbyn (or even Jeremy Clarkson) I am rather partial to knitwear, the odd blazer and even a touch of tweed. I am actually looking forward to being reunited with some of my slightly fraying ‘grandad’ cardigans. I’ve missed you, old friends. I’ll skip the facial hair though.
If, like me, you suffer with ‘good weather guilt’ (instilled in school – where if it’s even remotely sunny you are forced out into the playground) you can look forward to some cosy nights in again this autumn. There are plenty of great new series starting soon (such as my current favourite, C4’s First Dates) so we can all put our slippers on again and snuggle up on the sofa – hooray!
I really miss tights in the summer. They cover a multitude of sins and actually make you feel taller (or is it just me)? They can double as a make-shift belt, an emergency disguise in a ‘situation’ or even a tourniquet in the event of an unfortunate adder nip when frolicking through autumn leaves (I’m sure Michael Buerk did that once on ‘999’). On a more practical note, tights also mean you don’t have to obsessively shave your legs so often. Which brings me onto my next point…
I’m not sure if this is scientifically proven, but my hair seems to grow like a beast in the summer. My roots are worse than the Whomping Willow‘s, and my eyebrows start to look like Oscar The Grouch‘s after just half a day of daring to not pluck. Bring on the large woolly hats to mask this madness. Plus, summer with a toddler means I am often expected to whip off my outer clothing at a moment’s notice, to climb inside some form of paddling pool. Let’s not even start on the bikini area, except to say that in the winter I have far more warning of such things.
States of undress
I’m sure it was somebody very over-optimistic who coined the phrase ‘Sun’s Out, Guns Out‘. They can’t have lived near me. The reality in our country’s parks and open spaces is much more ‘BBQ Food’s Out, Get Your Moobs Out’. I don’t know what it is about summer that makes people think they can bare their hairy chests and beer bellies and jog across the street, without even a second thought to the safety of the drivers whose eyes are dangerously averted from the road by the horrific view displayed before them. Winter calls for at least two layers, which I thoroughly approve of.
In summary, winter will make you safer from stinging insects, safer from assaults upon your eyes from clothes unsuitable for public viewing, and better prepared to deal with dangerous snake bites. Hopefully such reassuring thoughts should just about last us until next year.