It’s getting cold again and I don’t like it.
On Sunday 14th January I felt sure I had been transported overnight to Siberia. I walked out thinking it was just another winter’s day, cold, dull and believing I was aptly and warmly attired. With sheepskin coat on, a vest (don’t care if you think vest’s are passion killers –and if they did thermal bras as well, I’d be buying them wholesale), a cardigan, tights and trousers I thought I would be well equipped to face the cold.
I don’t do the dress or skirt thing in the winter…too much bother. With trousers you can wear any type of footgear and still hold your head up high with some sort of dignity. Your footgear could be psychedelic Wellington boots with wool insulators but it is possible to get away with this when wearing truosers. With a skirt and dress, forget it. You’ve got to come correct with the footgear and also have your footbottom greased. Anyway, I digress!
So there was I thinking I would be warm enough to do a quick 15 minute walk into Catford without passing out on the pavement from hypothermia or being found
underneath Catford Bridge in the Salute position, all stiff and frozen going no-place, other than to the mortuary.
Little did I realise that the temperature was hitting zero and that I should’ve padded up even more. Yes, the Yeti look is not very attractive, but it was cold, star and I am not vain enough that I wouldn’t put on two extra jumpers, long-johns, a balaclava, gloves, mittens and a thermal Marks and Expensives Pensioners Belly Covering knickers.
I must’ve looked like the running woman, as I scurried along like mongoose after rat, to do a few chores. It was cold and I needed to keep my body warm. By the time I reached home, a rather bizzare thought occurred to me. I may just need a face transplant because I could not feel much of my face. I was sure my nose had fallen off enroute home and would be found in the jaws of some rotweiler or Pit Bull. I couldn’t feel it, I couldn’t sniff through it, and if it had been dripping, I’d only be aware of this by the white stains on my brown sheepskin coat.
I hear that we are expecting more arctic weather soon and that is a no, no for me. So peeps, if you see what looks like a dwarf yeti, (cause I am only about 5ft 3 inches tall) roaming around Catford, please don’t shoot or go for Terry the rotweiler or Hunter the Pitt Bull leave me be, I’m just a gal trying to go about her daily chores whilst trying to keep warm at the same time.
