Weather is all in the mind

It is winter in Sydney but sometimes I think the seasons are rather arbitrary. Today the maximum temperature was supposed to be 23 deg C but it only made it to 20 deg C. Needless to say everyone at the train station was rugged up in coats, gloves and scarves. If it was 20deg C in the middle of summer we would be wearing t shirts and shorts. But, we have been conditioned to think it is winter and feel cold as a result.

My house knows it is winter and it is 17deg C this evening - inside that is, with a heater. Outside the temperature is marginally warmer - 17.4deg.

I wonder why I am obsessed with knowing what the temperature is going to be or is? Is it to be prepared and wear the right clothes? Is it to reassure myself that it is really cold? Is it to see if the weather bureau gets it right/wrong? Is it to remind myself what season we are supposed to be in?

People Reading

People Reading

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My First Post

Welcome, invisible readers to my new blog! That is presuming there is someone out there in the wide online world who has stumbled across my blog and has paused to read it. Otherwise I will just quietly talk to myself here online, which must be preferable to muttering to myself seated on a bus seat.

I wonder if other people have the same problem that I have, starting a new book to read. I finish a book and then can't move on quickly to a new book. I search my bookshelves for the next book to read, start it and then abandon it. I try the same genre and when that does not work I try a new genre, hoping to be transported inside a book within a few pages. If I force myself to stick with a book and it does not grab me, my reading slows down, which is another frustration, considering all the books I have waiting to be read. I have tried for the last week to immerse myself in the The White Russian by Tom Bradby and made it to page 78 but it is not happening. I am sure it is a good book - it just came at the wrong time. The last book I read was Above Suspicion by Lynda La Plante and I was halfway through before I realised that I had read it before. I kept going, though, because I was enjoying it and I could not remember the ending.