Last Days of Summer

 green tea, green grass (Note to self: do not wear tight tunics over pants with zips)

While my family are sweltering in Germany, 30 degrees is a distant memory for me. September hasn't been exactly mellow here (hurricane, torrential rain, 14 degrees). My daily "uniform" includes a vest at all times and a scarf tied around my waist for kidney protection when I'm at home. I have switched from salads to soup and sleep with a hot water bottle. But every now and again the sun comes out for half a day or so and it feels a little bit like summer still.

Yesterday was one of the rare days I could dry my clothes outside, and they were actually dry within a few hours -miracle!

I am dreading the winter already, since neither the houses here nor the cars can handle the cold and ice. I never used to mind the Irish weather and for years didn't even own an umbrella or waterproof clothes (and until 2009, Irish winters were mild), but in the past two years it has become a bit too extreme too often.

However, I agree with this recent Oliver Burkeman column (click to read the whole article; it's excellent) about contrast, in which he actually uses the Irish weather as an example: "[N]o tropical beach holiday, nor even a constantly stimulating city-break, can ever rival the contrast between a torrential cliff-top downpour and the subsequent Guinness by a roaring pub fire." Though I can count on one hand the pints of Guinness I have had by a roaring pub fire in the last three years (since moving out of the city and relying on a car), I can attest to the truth of this statement. I will always love the Irish climate. And I appreciate those rare blue-skies days so much more because they are not a daily occurrence.

On a different note, I am surprising  myself by reading a spy novel (see sidebar) and actually enjoying it. A lot. I only found out after I started to read it that there is a movie out now based on another of le Carré's books. Matt has most of his novels, so this might become my new obsession.