Seriously. What's up with New Zealand and heating? Haven't they heard of insulation? I can see my breath in our house this morning. I am currently shovelling down gobs of hot porridge as if it's going out of fashion, in a vain attempt to create some inner warmth.
One other reason I haven't been knitting much lately is that I've been trying to catch up with the NZ literature scene. I fell upon the two Fleur Beale books that I couldn't get in Canada and devoured them; oddly enough, both girls (one historical, one contemporary) experience the same Big Chill as I am at the moment. One is packed off to a remote island off the coast as part of a reality-tv show; the other lives in the "real" old world before - gasp - heating! I was so pleased to see that _A Respectable Girl_ won the NZ Post book award - such awesome writing, such characters. Seems to me that families are Beale's major strong point - she just gets it. The respectable girl of the title is actually a kick-ass, no nonsense girl who you wish you could be like but privately know you aren't. Being this cold - which, really, isn't anything like a 19th century cold, and I know it - rather puts it in perspective. I'd have no hope of being that girl; I'd be the miserable delicate one who makes everyone cross by whining about how cold she is all the time. Wouldn't have time for kicking any asses, putting any colonials in their place, or marching through the woods barefoot - I'd be the one poking at the fire all day and wishing she had more blankets.
To be honest, that's mostly what I'm doing right now. Sorry for letting down the kick-ass side.
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