Spring…please?

As it turns out, I was rather over-optimistic back in January when I tentatively wondered whether spring was on the way. It officially now has arrived, but there’s very little sign of any remotely spring-like weather.

Like most people, I am now officially Sick of Winter. And particularly I’m sick of my coat. We’ve had Hallow’een, Bonfire Night, Christmas, New Year, my birthday (not officially recognised as a national holiday, but significant nonetheless) and Valentine’s Day, and during that entire period every time I have set foot out of doors I’ve had to bundle myself up in my now-hated winter coat. It’s an olive green parka, which I bought three winters ago, thinking it would be practical, trendy and warm. The first and the last considerations weighing rather more than they would have done ten years ago.

It is warm, and I suppose it’s reasonably practical, but my heart sinks every time I see it. It adds about 2 stone to my hips and tummy, and then the chocolate I comfort eat to make myself feel better about looking so fat and frumpy adds another stone. And perhaps I only have myself to blame for this, but the large pockets have been distended into total shapelessness by my habit of doing the nursery drop-off without my handbag. Gloves, phone, keys, tissues, loose change, mittens, boxes of raisins, dinner money, letters from the school, bits of gravel/moss/pebbles which have taken Anna’s fancy, have all been shoved in, often simultaneously. Gazing disgustedly at my saddle-bags this weekend I instigated a rigorous clear-out, and have been carrying a bag this week, but the damage is now done.

I want it to be spring for lots of reasons – it may incentivise me to do some much-needed spring cleaning and gardening, Anna has a lovely new wardrobe of spring/summer clothes which I’m dying to dress her in, a recent blood test showed that I’m Vitamin D deficient (no bloody wonder), I’d like to feel an urge to eat salad instead of mashed potato as my go-to side dish – but mainly I just want to be able to switch to my lovely Banana Republic navy trench coat, or denim jacket, or, even, whisper it, even just a cardie. And then I want to burn my parka.

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