A few months ago, I had to rip my zucchini plants out of their pots from the roots and chuck them in the bin. They had been fighting a fungus for months, wilting and turning white, the fruits’ growth stilted at half-mast, drooping. When the frost came, I knew it was over for them; the fertiliser wasn’t bringing them back to life, and neither was I.

I wasn’t ready for the cold either, but unfortunately no one will rip me from my roots and put me out of my misery. When I first moved to Victoria, people kept telling me that layers were key. Be prepared for anything, always bring a coat, you’ll get used to it. But it’s nearing the end of winter now and complaining about the cold has become part of my daily repertoire.