We haven't had the heater on for more than a week. At least.
In the morning, I automatically go to put on sandals.
We haven't dried washing inside for ages (yay!).
Porridge feels wrong, so I am making bircher muesli.
The house needs a really good clean, drawers gone through, shelves sorted, furniture moved and windows done. Everything.
And I might even actually do it.
But then again, I might just play in the garden. Like we did yesterday, until it was nearly dark.
The sky is often soft bright blue and the cedrella are out (am torn as to whether I want one in the garden - lovely though they are, they do sucker - even through cracks in concrete).
Footy is finished for the year.
Dinner in the park is back on.
Nights have been chilly or balmy. Pleasant either way.
The garden has been going off.
And is calling me to come and look, come and plant, come and pull weeds, sit and admire.
I think I found a self sown rannunculus lappaceus (Australian common buttercup) which is indigenous to our area in the front yard. I am possibly wrong but excited nonetheless.
There is the sweet scent of jasmine everywhere.
I have no colds, flus or other ailments. Winter doesn't really suit me (although heating makes it bearable).
The mornings are lovely, as are the evenings. And the days in between.
I feel quite happy, really I do.