It's the weather, stupid

Besides the food, the landscape, the history, the umbrella pines, the magnificent architecture, the majestic cities, (etc, etc.,) another attribute that makes Italy special is the weather. Gorgeous weather in Italy, right?
So much so that even if it's slightly bad -- partly cloudy, let's say -- nobody knows what to do. Including me.
Ever since I've come back from London, about 10 days ago now, the weather in Italy's been bad -- and by that I mean partly cloudy, with some showers. What?
In England, this weather would be good. Changeable yes, but the sun has shone a bit most days, it's still warm, and rain has only been intermittent.
Here it may be time to break out the fur coats.
No, no, please no. Not yet. I'm not ready.
The last two weeks of beautiful weather here I left to go back to London for my two weeks of freelance work.
A friend from here had invited me to go to the Aeolian islands with her for a few days to a villa she rented there.
But I had to go work for the man. When the man calls, particularly in these shitty times, gotta go, let's be serious.
My friend came back the color of mahogany raving about the Aeolian islands -- the food, the sea, the view from the terrace of the house she rented.
And it's been cloudy and rainy since I came back.
Italians are now wearing jackets. Not a good sign.
One consolation: A couple of evenings we've had the most amazing thunder and lightning over the lake, a natural pyrotechnic show. One night the noise rivalled the fireworks on the mall in Washington on the fourth of July. We were awestruck.
But still. Still. I'm not ready for winter. I'm just not.