Hello! How are you?

I hate that we don’t chat as much. I miss you. And I can never remember if I’ve written to you or not – so here goes.

It’s that time of year again.

It is the time of coat roulette.

The summer has long gone, pumpkins and fireworks are mere wisps in the air. It is November, right?

Because I seem to be stuck in an endless loop of ‘What fucking coat should I wear today?’

This is, by rights, the season of the duffle coat. We should have already started with the gloves and hats. We should be sliding into snoods and winter boots any time now, cracking open the Christmas playlist.

So why am I still going out rocking a big chunky cardi and maybe a light scarf to dress it up. (Imagining I look vaguely cosmopolitan and should be sipping a cappuccino as I stroll across a cobbled square to my very important and yet casual meeting.)

What is going on?

I mean I love the warm weather, but it’s November.

Each day I peer out the door, trying to judge the correct attire. I am not new to this task – I have been dressing myself for over 50 years – but each day I fail in my choice of coat.

Early morning walks find me shivering in several layers of vests, a puffer jacket grabbed from the hook.  But by the time I’ve reached the end of the road the temperature has risen by 20 degrees, and I’ve broken into a hot sweat, spending the rest of my walk steaming like one of those oven ready chickens.

There is no glamour here.

In the afternoon I grab an extra cardi and a coatigan – ridiculous word – only to be chilled to the bone once I’m down to the fields. Since September I’ve knitted myself two pairs of hand-warmers and put them away because it’s too hot.

My scarves are sorted by season.  OK, we both know they’re not but let’s pretend that rather than a scrunched-up pile in the bottom of the wardrobe, they’re carefully folded and curated – lighter ones moving to the lower shelves as the seasons turn, woolly ones moving up for the festivities.

I spent the summer knitting a pastel Tom Baker-era Doctor Who scarf.  

I should be wearing it now! It should be cold enough!  Only by lunchtime, the forecast says I might need a bikini and there’s a chance you’ll find my body down the fields, dead of heat exhaustion under a very fetching moss stitch creation.

I have a system, people. My autumn coats replacing chunky cardi’s, winter coats waiting in the wings. There’s a schedule and everything, padded coats are ready for action come Halloween, my summer jackets neatly folded away.  Only now there’s a mountain of coats on the stairs, the coat hooks already bulging with too many layers. One minute I might need a bomber jacket, the next a full-on snowsuit. I need too many options on any given day.

I know the climate emergency is a terrible thing. I know the melting ice caps are bad but if someone had explained about the whole which-coat-to-wear’ situation I’m sure people would have taken it more seriously.

I want to need to put the heating on – if only to moan that it’s too early to put the heating on. Am I to be left no joy in life?

I watched a Christmas Movie last night, (shut up – the world was ending) I watched a Christmas movie last night in a t-shirt!!!!!!!

It was weird.

My system has gone to shit!

I don’t know what to wear.

And don’t even get me started on boots!

It’s too much. I’m too hot.

I’m out. Or in. Depending on which coat I wear.