Blowing Hot and Cold

Overhead on Friday, on a 10-minute bus journey into town.
The protagonists are two slightly rotund women of indeterminate age.
The translation is my own.
It was probably funnier in the original. Sorry.

"Nice day..."
"Yes. Brrr... bit chilly though."
"Yes. Pfff... too damned chilly in the mornings, still."
Pause.
"Mmm. Still, better make the most of it. Be too hot soon."
"Pfff... you're right. Can't stand the heat, me. So humid! Awful."
"Yeah! Bloody heat."
"I can't stand the cold, though."
"Well, you know, I hate the cold, but - and this might surprise you - well, I hate rain more."
"Mmm?"
"Yes. If I had to choose between rain and cold, for example, well, I'd choose rain..."
"Mmm. Rain. Had a bit of that lately, haven't we?"
"Pfff... bloody rain, bloody snow, bloody cold... We've had a right time of it this year..."

Unfortunately, we had arrived at my stop, so I can't tell you how this riveting exchange ended.

Oh, but I forgot to mention the context:
it was a beautiful spring morning, warm and gloriously blue-skied. Forecast 22°.

And they say we British moan about the weather?!