I often forget about how New Zealand is at the start of the world's time zones until other people living in the past on the other side of the world start talking about what a lovely Summer's day they're having.

Summer? You guys are, like, six months behind us. It's frickin' winter here! And it's frickin' cold.

How cold is it? Let's just say all that propaganda about the polar icecaps melting is all bullshit.

Yesterday it was so cold that I refused to leave the house.
We'd promised to take the girls to the beach and the park the day before, but that was the day before Winter finally decided to arrive.

So I just sent D-Missus out to get some fish and chips and we had a picnic on the living room floor and made a mess of the house, and built forts out of chairs and blankets and pillows instead.

Forts make such great hide-outs. But then the damn kids ratted me out, and D-Missus found me in my hut and she made me help tidy everything up. So unfair.

But despite the cold, I was keen to get back on the bike again this morning, after a week off with a cold, and we even had a disagreement last night about how I supposedly wasn't going to cycle today (“Yes I am!”), but then I got up this morning and discovered that it was even colder than yesterday, and so she won that argument, this time.

Anyway. Screw this. I'm going into hibernation.

Where's my beer?