One hundred years ago this week Table Talk columnist "Celia" was still getting over a windy, buffeting burst of Melbourne's famously capricious weather over the Foundation Day (Australia Day) weekend.
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"The clerk of the weather was in most ungracious mood over the weekend and holiday. Foundation Day, nothing but copious tears [rain], with a few struggling sunshine smiles. This, too, after we had been, nearly baked last week, and most of us had made up our minds for three days up in the mountains, or down at the seaside. But instead of Sunday in the surf, we spent it huddled up over the fire.
"We hear pathetic tales of the sufferings of those who struck hard-hearted landladies who failed to provide a fire.
"In cases where people had gone 'away' unprovided with winter wraps and furs, whispers of having to sit swaddled up in the blankets are told, and lots and lots sat wrapped up in their overcoats.
"Those who had resolved not to leave town until Sunday morning had the best of it, for the majority decided discretion to be the better part of valour, and stayed at home.
"A doughty few journeyed to Port Melbourne and set off by the [pleasure craft] Hygeia. They were the most unfortunate of all, for, like Noah's dove, they failed to make port, and after buffeting round the bay were brought back to their starting point wet, limp and very woebegone-looking objects."
