It is a testament to how depressing this winter has been that, given a glimpse of sunshine, the entire country left their homes in flip flops and shorts last weekend in pursuit of barbeque equipment.

Sporting shades and dreaming of bikinis and bottles of San Miguel, we were hard pushed to remember that it was early March. "It's summer," I insisted on screaming, unbothered that I'd glossed over an entire season or that my feet were turning blue.

The excitement comes partly from the fact that spring and summer open up a whole new wardrobe of possibilities.

I've never really accepted winter, somehow feeling that if I refuse to buy a scarf and mittens winter will do the decent thing and not arrive. Then wonder why my nose has been running for six months.

In a similar move, there was a notion on Saturday at my friend's housewarming (swiftly converted to a barbeque) as we sat outside in the chilly evening air, that if we act summery for long enough, it'll usher the season along.

Pimms was served, music was played and shades were worn: this despite the fact that the sun had disappeared behind a house several hours before and we needed candles to find the ketchup.

"I'm quite happy," I insisted, rather ridiculously, resplendent in gypsy skirt and denim jacket. "But do you happen to have any legwarmers?"

This cheerful, insane optimism could be witnessed all over the place.

Ice cream vans returned from wherever it is that they hibernate to in the colder months (Why don't they take up selling warm soup and brollies from October to March?) and were doing a roaring trade. There's nothing that says "Summer's here!" more than raspberry ripple dripping down your wrist.

Every two bit cafe hastily dusted off its plastic chairs and transformed itself magically into a Parisian style street eaterie (if you ignored the squeezy sauce bottle shaped like a tomato and the heavy fug from the traffic).

On the road, people took their tops down (on their cars, don't be smutty) and were taking a spin around the streets with summery music blaring, broad grins reflecting sheer joy of the season or, possibly, G-force.

It makes a change. For months people have been walking around, eyes downcast, a bit antisocial and angry at the sky and everything else.

One glimpse of sunshine and everyone starts beaming at each other as though we've just won a war, rather than got our legs out for the day.

Okay, the sunshine didn't last long but it was a much-needed reminder of what life can be like when it isn't blinking freezing.

Think of it: picnics; parties in the garden; tennis, shandy, frisbees, swimming. Actually wanting to leave the house.

The clocks go forward on Sunday and a greater proportion of sunshine can't be far behind.

I knew I was right not to buy that winter coat.