It’s hard work in the morning, it’s dark and cold outside but inside it’s dark and warm. This does not make it easy to get up and out from under the duvet, so it becomes harder and tougher to wake up in the morning. It’s not just me that is affected either.
The Feliciraptor is also struggling with the lack of sunlight in the morning. I will go in to wake her up and even though she is seven she acts like a teenager and just rolls over. Rolls over in that “go away I am refusing to get up” way, and accompanies it with cries of “back to bed” when I pick her out of her bed.
Winters in the UK are not fun, and I’m still never prepared for them even though I know it’s been coming.
Tomorrow sunrise is at 8.14am, just a few minutes before I’d sit down at my desk to work, and it will set at 16:09pm, just nine minutes after my close down time. This means that I have a barely any sun to build up my vitamin D (assuming that any breaks through the constant cloud cover). This is what December and January look like, two whole months of darkness.
Added to this will be the cold, and I know that just above freezing is not as cold as New York will get (as I will be reminded by Mrs G) but it will still not be shorts weather. It will be as light and as warm as the inside of a refrigerator but with the added benefit of airborne moisture. It will be like the bottle of fizzy water has exploded on the top shelf.
It is not a British winter if there is no persistent precipitation, and without it getting too cold to snow means a constant level of drizzle. The kind of bitty rain that seeps into every nook and cranny and leaves everything feeling damp. It’s miserable.
It is inevitable that the weather will get me down, make it difficult to through the blankets off, but I prefer it to the bright and warm days of summer. I mean no hay-fever, no sunburn, no being too hot. That makes me happy.