VERITY LUSH: Bare legs in November? Meghan's too young to feel the cold...yet!

I've started using an expression in relation to my own kids that my parents and grandparents used to use about me.
Look at those bare legs! Verity gets the shivers just looking at them                                Picture Dominic Lipinski/PA WireLook at those bare legs! Verity gets the shivers just looking at them                                Picture Dominic Lipinski/PA Wire
Look at those bare legs! Verity gets the shivers just looking at them Picture Dominic Lipinski/PA Wire

(In all honesty I am probably using myriad such expressions, but this one is currently of particular pertinence.)

‘You’re young, you don’t feel the cold!’ was often bandied about in my direction when I was young.

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I saw some girls this morning – and believe me, it is bitter as I write this – who had bare legs.

Bare legs, I tell you! What? Why? How?

My own children are happy to go to school clad in a light coat, no scarf, nor hats and gloves.

No doubt I’ll be had up for neglect, given that they resemble little urchins.

On the one hand, I fully understand that it is an irritant to be bundled up like the Marshmallow Man, but equally, who could bear to be that cold?

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However, I also remember the days of my yoof, when my friends and I wouldn’t even go out until 9pm, whereas these days that’s not far off of bedtime.

Out we’d trot in our high heels, no coats because they ruined the outfits and necessitated hours stood in the cloakroom queues, and not an awful lot in the way of clothing, if I’m honest.

Mere wisps of material and bare toes peeking out of agonizing shoes.

If I were to be caught tottering out in Gunwharf at midnight these days, I’d be fully prepared to take a hot water bottle and be sporting a variety of thermal insulation.

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Only last year I ventured into M&S and purchased some long-sleeved thermal tops to go underneath my already woollen array of jumpers and cardigans. The more layers, the merrier my internal thermostat.

Even Meghan Markle, she of the Californian climate and soon-to-be royal, tripped out in heels and nowt on her legs this week. But then she’s only 36.

Give her a couple of babies, a few British winters, and a handful more years under her belt, and then we’ll see about bare legs in November and not a streaming eye or running nostril in sight.

TIME FOR A MOVE IF WE WANT TO SAVE THE SPECIES

In only 3 weeks we will have passed the shortest day of the year, and the evenings – almost unthinkably – will begin to slowly lighten again.

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Another year will be almost under the belt of planet Earth, and a new one will begin.

That continual passage of time, which will continue with or without us, is remarkable.

Brian Cox, he of the giant brain, was on Radio 2 this morning explaining that we need to inhabit another planet if we are to survive as a species. As he put it, if we wanted to wipe a species out, we’d put them all in one place.

If we wanted them to survive, we’d spread them out.

Food for thought in the 21st century.

YOU’D HAVE TO HAVE A HEART OF STONE NOT TO BE DELIGHTED BY THE ROYAL ENGAGEMENT

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Unless you’re not only externally frozen by the chill this week, but also frozen on the internal front, then you can’t help but admit to a little spark of cheer at the news of the royal engagement.

Not because it’s royal, but simply because of the happiness involved. Who doesn’t wish for fellow humans to be happy? (Excluding sociopaths and their ilk.)

The fact that Prince Harry and Meghan Markle were so at ease was a contributory factor. And as I tried to say to my children, they were watching

history in the making.

In the same way that they’ve learnt about Henry VIII at school, so one day will children learn about this Henry.

Fascinating when thought about from that angle.

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