There is no doubting the fact that winter has arrived in the Flinders, not when the nightime temperature is falling to zero or below, and thanks to the clear night skies we've had unwelcomed visits from that mean old fellow, Mr Frost!
For the past three mornings I have had to drag myself out of the warm comfort of my bed well before I am ready and wander out to the garden to partake in a sleepy-eyed rescue mission of my garden from Mr Frost's winter teeth.
Whilst still in my pyjamas I grab the garden hose, turn on the tap and inevitably wait for the block of ice to melt, my face gently numbing in the morning air. Then when the water eventually starts flowing I urgently spray the frost off the precious few plants in the veggie patch and flowerbeds before the sun rises high enough to frost-burn them to a crisp.
After completing this mercy dash, my wet bedsocks and I return to the cozy warmth of our cottage, where I thaw myself in front of the fire, somewhat annoyed at how there is nothing that wakes you faster than fifteen minutes in the garden on a 2*C morning.