I've always wanted to learn the catarrh

We are finally emerging from the fog which has been sickness, and much to our relief, it doesn't seem to be some Australian-low-immunity-to-British-bugs as EVERYONE has succumbed to this sickness. (And the newspapers are worried about "Bird Flu"!)
Even Sasunnach has been put out because our routine has been so interrupted, but we, ever faithful, have trudged through the fields for him. Being outside in the strong wind and cold has allowed us at least to experience February...

This from the TImes On Line (February 12, 2006)
"Don't hibernate, embrace February in Britain!
It’s February: blustery, soupy, murky, boggy, booty, squelchy, shivery, frost-biting, scarf-wearing February. The perfect time for a walk, says Vincent Crump. TS Eliot was just being provoking. The cruellest month is February, and everyone knows it. Christmas is long forgotten, spring still seems years away, and you’re cooped up in the house for weekends on end, breaking your new year’s resolutions and perfecting your scowl.
Psychologically, how do you survive? You try to insulate yourself from it. You turn up the heating, eat more puddings, hurry from duvet to desk and back, through monochrome streets under concrete-coloured clouds, wishing the greys away.

I’ve got a better strategy, and it’s far more fulfilling. Embrace the winter. Reconnect with the elements. Hug the cold. One of the pleasures of living in Britain is that we have seasons, extremes of temperature and colour and light — but only if you expose your senses to them."

Well, Vincent Crump, we HAVE exposed ourselves to the February of Britain, and while it is enjoyable because it is novel for us antipodeans, the suggestion of 'eating more puddings' goes down a winner when you make gurgling noises each time you inhale and leave puddles of crumpled tissues in your wake...