Lions and Tigers and Warm Woollen Mittens.

It has been an awful long while since I wrote anything for you, for a variety of reasons which I mostly forget; probably because they were along the lines of ‘Don’t really feel like it at the moment – too busy – do it later’.  That and there is a problem with the internet at our house which may-or-may-not simply be something to do with us not paying the bill. And we have been busy. Honest. I’m about to write all about just so you can see.

Well, I’m about to write about one bit. If I wrote about all of it you might not finish before tomorrow. You know what I’m like; I start writing something that took five minutes in reality and should consume no more than a paragraph, and somewhere along the line it turns into a page or three and in reading devourers a few hours. So. Baby steps.

This is what I started writing on December 14^th, and never quite finished until now.

You’re all probably thinking of turkeys and roasts and eating Christmas cookies/cakes/it-contains-sugar-things people have made, pulling out the woolly hats and gloves, worrying about frost and hoping for snow. I’m having a ridiculously sweet coco ron (Hot coco) in a small 20p cup, deciding I want sticky rice and chicken with as much sweet chilli sauce as I can handle instead of a Subway and lamenting anytime the weather dips below 20˚.

Shorts, with a chance of Woolly Hat.

The weather here is starting to, amusingly, remind me of British stuff I’m used to. Kind of. It helps that I’ve adapted to it all, to a certain extent; the heat doesn’t feel as hot now. Makes it feel more familiar.

It’s cold in the morning, for a given value of cold. You get up and potter around going ‘Argh where are my woolly socks!’ before you realise you don’t have woolly socks, you moron, this is Thailand. So instead you forgo thoughts of woollen socks and get ready, maybe having a hot shower; a cold shower is out of the question, if you can help it. You put on a pair of long trousers, consider them, step outside briefly and decide that yes, it’s defiantly too cold for anything shorter, thank you. On goes a top or two, and a cardie or that one jumper you (Your mother) had the foresight to pack (‘Why will I need a jumper? It will be way too hot.’ ‘Always be prepared.’ ‘Fine, fine.’) You have breakfast, and a cup of tea which you warm your hands around pathetically and then suddenly its 7.00 and you’ve got to hop in the van, which is covered in condensation. You’re pretty sure that’s a sign it’s gotten colder. Or that it rained over night. Either way.