I’ve come to a decision recently that even if I prefer winter, winter is the wrong best month. And so is summer.

Both arguments are right. I don’t want to sweat my junk off and I shouldn’t be happy to pay extortionate bills to be comfy. There are two other seasons where it’s not extreme. One for people who like plants and one for people who like the colour orange.

Weirdly I’m surprised that they aren’t more popular since they are the sign the apex of your discomfort, whether that be cold or hot, is over.