The meaning of a four letter word

The conversations out here start differently. Variations on "Ja-ged-any-rain"?"and "How-much-ranger-get?" take the place of the pedestrian, "how ya going?" or for a new acquaintance, "what do you do?"

When I answer the phone in my parents home, I am obliged first to answer these questions before any further business can be transacted. I don't always know the significance of the numbers, but I can look out the window and see the green carpet.

I noticed in town, the amount of rainfall is the single topic discussed. Jungian collective consciousness puts a spring in the step of those lucky to be the recipients of rain, while others' shoulders droop, betraying the fact that they are still waiting.

The air outside is steamy and the plains are hazy, heavy with moisture. The luxury can not be described. I walk out in the garden, working hard to make my way across the verdant lawn, watching for snakes - it's only a couple of days since one met Dad on the lawnmower. Roses show off in various garden beds and the crickets and frogs sing their noisy, cheerful chorus at any time of day. I look up at the trees where the koalas usually live, but none are about. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a brown creature with tall ears sitting very still. First I think it's a hare, but then it seems too big and I think it could be a small brown wallaby. I look again and realise it's a hare, gorging on the heavenly green. Its only moving parts are the jaws. It looks at me. I stay still and it continues the feast. Alfie, the Jack Russell, shows his age by showing no interest in a chase. Around another corner, brilliant red, green and blue parrots take flight as Alfie approaches.

A magpie gargles, singing the song that I love. It's the sound of morning in the Australian bush.

Mr Lincoln roses from the garden, fresh today.
© 2015 divacultura

Manchurian Pears
© 2015 divacultura

Beyond the fence post
© 2015 divacultura

Study in contrasts. I never tire of this majestic tree.
© 2015 divacultura

My favourite dead tree finally keeled over. I will miss it's Tim Burtonesque addition
to the landscape. It still makes an interesting study.
© 2015 divacultura

Beating the heat at the movies.

Bliss was my first feeling as I felt the need to pull up the bedcovers early this morning. It has been days since it has felt cool enough to even consider pulling up a sheet! The waking experience has been a sigh as the realisation dawned that the temperature felt like the middle of the day and it was only 7am.

Without an airconditioned home, the weekend's heat meant that retreating to somewhere cool was a necessity. My usual strategy is to go to the movies. When the weather is like this, I will see whatever is on next. That is why I saw "12 Years a Slave" on Saturday. On Sunday I planned to go in the middle of the day and saw "Inside Llewyn Davis", the new Coen Brothers' film.

My tissue supply was not assured as I took my seat for "12 Years a Slave". The film was not on the top of my "to see" list because I rated the content as "harrowing". Physical comfort trumped the psychological.

Solomon Northrup wrote the account of his kidnapping, transportation to the south and sale into slavery and the film is adapted from his account. For most of the first part of the film I was unmoved. I was interested enough in the characters, but felt quite removed from the story. Intellectually I absorbed the details of slave transactions, deceptions and the clear view of slave owners that slaves were not human. My tears flowed at moments of kindness shown to Solomon and during a particularly harrowing scene of a slave being beaten. The hyprocrisy of slave owners reading the bible to their "property" and using the scripture to justify beatings and other examples of bad behaviour made me angry, rather than sad.

It was a musical moment that brought me completely undone. A group of slaves sing a gospel song after burying one of their number. Solomon takes some time to join; when he does, the ferocity of his singing conveys such meaning - anger and hope simultaneously.

It was a complete change of pace on Sunday when I bought a ticket to watch a film about a folk singer in 1961. My heart sank as I took my seat in the cinema that was uncomfortably hot. Before the previews were through an usher advised that the airconditioner had died that morning. It had just been fixed, but it would take a while for the cinema to cool down. Full refunds were offered. I decided to have faith.
Before long I was freezing to death as the newly effective airconditioner caused a layer of ice to form on my bare arms and shoulders. It was welcome.

I'm a fan of the Coen Brothers' work and was looking forward to a film about a singer. It turned out to be a strange film. There were moments where I laughed, but I was largely frustrated by the lack of Llewyn Davis to seize the opportunities he had before him. I really enjoyed the music but the film is less than memorable.

As I emerged from the cinema the wind had turned and the cool change had arrived. Such a relief!

What's your strategy for surviving the heat?

Campanology campaign - a resounding success!

We did it! Our composition for the Federation Bells went off without a hitch yesterday morning and seemed to be well-received and appreciated by passing Melbournians and guests participating in the Melbourne Recital Centre's fifth birthday.

When I arrived at 8:45am yesterday I felt as if mere hours had passed since we finished Friday night's dress rehearsal. We were issued with our celebratory orange t-shirts and my heart sank. Since spending all of 2007 wearing an orange t-shirt (I wasn't in prison, I was organising the Your Rights at Work campaign), I am under no illusions about my relationship with orange. It is good for accessorising, but wearing a whole garment in the colour makes me look like I am either very sick or have drunk too much red wine on a hot day. I decided to accessorise with an over-the-top floral crown to draw all eyes away from contemplating me in an orange t-shirt.

The score for the piece we composed for the
Melbourne Recital Centre's fifth birthday.
© 2014 divacultura

As we began our dress rehearsal and reviewed the score, it became evident that two members of the team had fallen by the wayside. We quickly rejigged things and made it work. We worked out the second part of the composition under the guidance of musical facilitator Steve Falk and then embarked on our dress rehearsal.

It was a beautiful evening and people looked at us curiously as we draped ourselves around the wave sculpture near Hamer Hall. There was magic as I struck the first note and others joined in. The rehearsal went well with only a few adjustments to make.

We were blessed with a glorious morning yesterday. The light dappled through the trees along St Kilda Road. I felt a profound sense of celebration and reverence as I struck the first note again. People stopped and looked. Some even smiled. Many of them asked what it was all about and I happily told them. Crossing Southbank Boulevard we encountered a man who was impatient for us to cross. He waved at the flashing red man on the traffic light and turned in front of us. We continued the tintinabulation. As we reached the Melbourne Recital Centre there was a crowd of people waiting for the doors to open; it was our job to open them.

Federation Bells - that's "E" on the right.
© 2014 divacultura

As the sound died, I found my partner for the door bell. I struck the E and he followed with C. The conversation continued until a frenzied pace was reached and we stopped. The high Cs were struck. The G, followed by my E and a low C. It was our musical joke - the descending C major arpeggio which is the call for patrons to return to their seats after interval in concert halls the world over. Three times we descended and then the doors opened. The people followed us in.

We went up the stairs to Elisabeth Murdoch Hall and continued to play as patrons took their seats.

Naturally the piece concluded with a rendition of "Happy Birthday" and three cheers.

It was a truly joyous experience and energy was high as we returned to the VIP room. Contact details were swapped and t-shirts were peeled off.

The "backyard". This is normally a carpark.
© 2014 divacultura

I went downstairs to the backyard which had been astro-turfed and turned into a festive party venue. I ate a taco from the taco truck and listened to the Welsh Men's Choir. I played a tune on the decorated piano which was sitting on the footpath and then found a seat to take in some of the open jazz jam. A house band welcomed soloists on a variety of instruments to join them for a song. It was terrific to see so many teenagers taking the stage with their saxophones, guitars and trombones. I wasn't sure if they accepted singers, so I just enjoyed the show. As people rode the escalators to the next level they swung their hips to the music and smiled. Any wonder anything with a swinging beat was considered "devil's music". Never know what an escalator ride and jazz could lead to.

I decided to leave before the day became too hot. As I was walking back to the city, I stopped off at the National Gallery of Victoria. An artist was working in the foyer. Dozens of plastic mesh rectangles had been embroidered with words in black and the backgrounds needed to be completed in white. About ten people were stitching when I arrived. It was lovely and cool in there so I decided to find some words that appealed and contributed a few stitches.

Leaving my mark
© 2014 divacultura

As I sat stitching, I was struck by the variety of people involved: women, men, boys, girls. A Chinese woman sat beside me and asked what it was all about. I explained and she picked up a rectangle and started to stitch. I introduced myself and she told me about her holiday. Her name was Jinbor (I don't know how to spell it) and she is a fashion designer with her own label in China. She told me this after I remarked on how swiftly she stitched.

After four rows I left. My body was starting to feel the work of carrying and playing that bell and I needed to rest.

As I made my way home I felt so happy to live in a city where there are public spaces and events with really interesting and welcoming things to do on a very hot day where retreat to an air conditioned space is top of the agenda.

Noticing my body this morning, I decided that indulging in campanology is an excellent upper body work out and a very enjoyable one too. I now realised why a hunchback rings the bells!

The bells go back in their cases.
© 2014 divacultura

Clever marketing - another hat tale

I mentioned yesterday that I decided to succumb to the lure of the wildwest and buy a cowgirl hat when I was recently at the Tamworth Country Music Festival. It is irresistible, but also practical when you're walking down Peel Street in the blazing sun listening to buskers or acts performing on one of the many stages.

On the Friday before the Australia Day long weekend I met a friend for lunch in town and noticed a growing crowd and queue right near the post office.  I thought that there must have been someone very important and/or famous doing something remarkable, so walked around the corner to see why people were lining up. There was no country music star or even minor local politician or newsreader. People were queuing to get a hat!

The hat was nothing special, but had the right shape and the wide brim. Importantly it also carried the sponsor's logo on the hat band and could be had for a $2 donation to the McGrath Foundation. It struck me as a creative approach to marketing and fundraising all by giving the people what they want/need. Walking around the streets were heads promoting sponsor Toyota, people were protected from the sun and a charity had made some money and planted their name in the minds of people. Additionally, the hats were only available at certain times, so the notion of scarcity was created and the crowd and queues grew, drawing further attention to the various organisations. Brilliant!

Having made my discovery, I stepped back from the line. I was promptly asked by a couple passing by "who is there?"

I explained the people were queuing for a hat.

"A hat?!"

"Yes a hat," I explained the relationship to the McGrath Foundation.

"That's incredible!" exclaimed the man. "I never thought I'd see a queue like that for a hat! Must be a good sort of a hat!"

"Well see for yourself. There goes one now," I pointed.


And lastly, here are some more of my recent photographs taken while on holiday.

The ever-present Alfie - just hanging around.
© divacultura 2014

A magnificent pair of eucalypts stand against the brilliant cerulean sky.
© divacultura 2014

Afternoon by the dry creek bed.
© divacultura 2014

City return - time for the photos.

I love Melbourne, but having over a month away has been a tonic. It's as if the dust that had settled on everything has been blown away and there's a new light on everything. I'm feeling reinvigorated and ambitious for the year ahead.

Cowgirl
© divacultura 2014

My time away was spent outside Toowoomba in Queensland, in country NSW, Tamworth and Lennox Head. Some of the time was spent hanging out with various family members, some of it was spent at Summersong music camp and some of it overlapped with the Tamworth Country Music Festival. When I've attended a gig there before I couldn't see for the hats, so this year I wore one too!


On my flight home yesterday, I was reading a physical book called Difficult Men. It's about television covering both the characters (Tony Soprano) and the creators (David Chase). It is absorbing reading and I barely noticed anyone else around me. After we'd landed and everyone was standing quietly in the aisle waiting to deplane, the bloke who had been sitting next to me said in a booming voice: "That book you're reading...Do you have one? Do you want one? Did you get rid of one?"

I laughed and responded: "Well, this morning I finished a book about psychopaths*, so draw your own conclusions!"

That hit the mark. I'd never thought about the potential for stand-up comedy in this context. I'd also forgotten about the privacy afforded by reading e-books.

While away, I took some photos that I really like and will share them from time to time. Hope you like them.

© divacultura 2014

This little wallaby is a regular visitor.
© divacultura 2014

In the shadow of the windmill.
© divacultura 2014

* The Psychopath Test by Jon Ronson - another absorbing read.

Being 15 again - or where's the thermostat?

After spending Christmas in Queensland with my family, I found myself sitting in the backseat of my parents' car with Alfie, the dog, driving back to the farm in NSW. Suddenly I was fifteen again. The radio in the car was intermittent and when it worked, was permanently tuned in to the cricket with heavy dose of static. The only thing worse than cricket on TV is cricket on the radio. The CD player has given up the ghost. This may have been a blessing as the selection was likely to include Slim Dusty live in Wagga Wagga. I put my earphones in and listened to my ipod. I'm enjoying discovering the dark corners of my music collections by setting it to shuffle all songs; although with my eclectic taste in music there can be moments of surprise as I lurch from Miles Davis to Michael Nyman and everything in between. Most startling is the voice recordings of invoices to do for my brother that have made their way onto my ipod the last time I synced. The move from Mozart to "standard horse dental" is quite confusing - especially if it happens when I'm dozing.

Overall the trip was pretty good and I've been enjoying the garden at my parents' home. It is alive with birds and native wildlife.

On the first afternoon I spotted a large koala in one of the trees in the front yard. I marveled at its strength as it was able to rest on two twigs and happily sleep while the branches blew in the breeze. He looked down at me and stretched, giving me a good glimpse of his strong claws. At one point he growled, reminding me that he was a wild animal and not a cute cuddly toy.

At dusk every evening, a tiny rabbit and a family of kangaroos come in to graze on the green lawn. I've discovered that the kangaroos rest under the bushy row of oleanders that shield the house from the road. I'm trying to sneak out and capture them on film, but so far my efforts have resulted in lovely shots of grass with a dark smudge in a far corner as the kangaroo hops away.

Yesterday while Alfie and I were out for our evening stroll, he went one way and I went the other. Suddenly I heard a yelp and Alfie streaked past me. I couldn't see what he was chasing but wasn't concerned because he's slowing in his old age. When he was younger, he'd give everything in pursuit of hares and kangaroos, but now he's back to a more sedate pace and seems to run just for the enjoyment.

White cockatoos are noisy in the trees at any time of day. They chatter amongst themselves, sometimes amiably and at other times they sound like a cranky parent arguing with the children. Whenever I open the door to go out, the noise crescendos and dozens of birds fly overhead, a slight tinge of yellow visible in their white wingspans.

The other challenge I face while with my parents is temperature control. Anything higher than "polar" causes my mother to declare that she's hot. Constant questions about whether the temperature is right for me result in nothing, despite constant responses that I can't speak because I'm busy chipping away at the layer of ice that has formed all over my body. I blink my eyes and ask if she can hear that noise - it's the sound of ice cracking on my eyelashes. The thermostat on the car remains on 18 degrees Celsius. The thermostat in the house remains on 20 degrees Celsius. At one point my teeth were chattering and this too resulted in no further action except silent contemplation. As I was travelling during summer, I didn't think to pack my thermals, but clearly I should have. I'll have to remember for my next visit.

That's all I can manage to write today as I'm not wearing my fingerless gloves while I type. Knitting some is out of the question as my fingers would surely snap off while underway and the resulting trip to the hospital on New Year's Eve is too much to contemplate, especially since I'd be travelling in the car with that layer of ice forming. At least I won't bleed to death. I empathise with the people on the boat stranded in the Antarctic ice at the moment.

I don't understand what happens to mothers and temperature control. When I was younger my mother's sole mission was to ensure that I was warm enough. This quest resulted in me always being required to wear singlet and socks to ensure no loss of body heat. At one stage I defined a singlet as "something you wear when your mother's cold". What happened?

What raised my eyebrows today

Whenever anything happens in the British royal family, I expect there will be a wave of fervour that will cause most unexpected results.

I noticed a pattern on Ravelry offering instructions for me to knit my own Prince George, complete with Kate and Will. On further investigation I notice that I am behind as I missed the earlier offering enabling me to knit my own royal wedding!

One thing led to another and suddenly I'm on the Book Depository website discovering books with titles such as "Knit your own dog", Knit your own cat", "Knit and Purl pets", "Knit your own zombie", "Knit your own moustache".

There are lots of references to "knitting bibles".  I had always assumed that the term "bible" used in this context meant a comprehensive guide to knitting.  Now I'm not so sure.  Perhaps it contains instructions to knit my own bible.  This could either be an actual book or the characters in the bible.

How about this fanciful title:  "Knit in a day for baby".  This is clearly written by someone who doesn't actually have a baby.  I don't have one, but I know enough to know that if I had one, I wouldn't have time to do anything in a day, let alone knit something.  I think I would start the planning for the 21st birthday present early.

******

I walked past a promotional poster for a show at the Arts Centre and was surprised that a piece of advertising would have such a lukewarm tag line.  I read: "This show is mildly entertaining!" Wow. Can't wait to see that one.

The exclamation mark seemed remarkably out of place!

I looked again.

It actually said that the show is "wildly entertaining!"

The punctuation now made sense.

*****
Another season of "Big Brother" is broadcasting on television right now.  I feel the passage of time as I notice my lack of desire to have a look.

*****

An email from a friend who is currently in Edinburgh advised me that Melbourne's temperature today was actually 3 degrees warmer than the temperature over there.  So much for summer.  I gain a new understanding of why the Scottish woman at music camp that time had no idea what to do with a sarong.

I hope your week started well.

What raised your eyebrows today?

Let's talk about the weather

It's 10:44am.  There has been a mild change overnight, but it has been short lived.  It is currently 27 degrees and we're heading for 36 degrees.  I'm looking forward to taking a long flight this afternoon and spending a couple of nights in an air conditioned hotel room.  It will be a relief.

This run of hot weather has broken records apparently.  We keep hearing about the record number of days in a row where the temperature has been 30 degrees or above.  If it's still this hot on Wednesday, it will have been 10 days in a row, breaking a 1961 record.  

The temperature of my destination is currently low 20's and it's looking like a welcome break from 30 degrees plus.

While this hot weather has been on, I'm still amazed to hear people arguing about the difference between weather and climate change.  This is not normal Melbourne weather.  Yes, we get some very hot temperatures during summer, but generally it's dry and there is a cool change every 2 - 3 days.  This hasn't happened.  There hasn't been rain but the air is humid and the changes haven't happened.

Stories about drownings on unpatrolled beaches and public swimming pools closing because of cryptosporidium parasites enjoying a day out and causing a gastro outbreak in Melbourne.  Apparently when it's hot, Melbourne goes swimming and it's not a very safe thing to do.  In some of the stories there are veiled references to these issues being heightened because of climate change.

So far, I've been worshipping at the airflow of my bladeless Dyson fan.  It's been surprisingly effective in bed at night.  Wearing a damp sarong to bed after a cold shower is also my other tip for staying cool in bed - or should that be "on" bed?

Yesterday afternoon, the sky clouded over and a soft breeze started to blow.  I'm sure the temperature only dropped a degree or two, but it was bliss.  It made me feel hopeful of a more comfortable night's sleep.  My hope was well placed!

What's the weather like at your place?  How do you keep cool?  Or warm?

Last week of the summer holidays.

Here's how I spent the last week of my summer holidays...

Swimming in a bush lake.

Walking on the beach in the morning.

Singing a capella with other wonderful people.

Making harmonies - planned and impromptu.

Exploring rhythm - body percussion, playing the bush and being silly and playful with a variety of percussion instruments.

Sharing secrets in the dark from a bunk bed in a dorm.

Accepting love and appreciation for my work.

Connecting with old friends and making new ones.

Writing songs.

Finishing and performing one of these songs (that I really like!)

Appreciating the beauty of the world.

Laughing.

Dancing.

Making music.

Writing.  A lot.

Listening to music live - every night.

Being humbled by the talent of people around me.

Being blessed by their generosity in helping to create.

Reconnecting with good creative habits (morning pages).


On the drive home, I was amazed to find the artist at a the Barking Dog ceramics gallery in Uralla (between Armidale and Tamworth) had posters in her work room for concerts performed by Kristina Olsen who is one of the long standing teachers at Summersong.

I then stopped to see the Cash Only show at the Tamworth Country Music Festival on the way home on the spur of the moment - one of my favourite ways to experience music.  It was at the Longyard Hotel which I think is the greatest pub name in the world.

Summersong is where I was, and have been every year since 2005 (except for 2012).  How's that for a great way to finish holidays!

© divacultura 2013

© divacultura 2013

Jellyfish.
© divacultura 2013

© divacultura 2013

© divacultura 2013

Leaving my mark.
© divacultura 2013

Jostling for power.  Impressed by the cabin mate
who packed a power board!
© divacultura 2013

Back in the bush. View from the back verandah.
© divacultura 2013

My normal daily publication schedule will recommence shortly.

Summer holidays - second leg completed.

I'm off to Summersong tomorrow.  Summersong is an adult music camp that pretty much changed my life.  I'll come back inspired and ready to tackle a very busy and promising 2013.

While I'm away, I'll be "unplugged" from the digital world.

See you on the other side!

In the meantime here's a few photos I've taken in the last few days.

Coal miners' memorial - Gunnedah, NSW
(c) divacultura 2013

Night tree
(c) divacultura 2013

Tim Burton landscape
(c) divacultura 2013

Sunset reflections on a wet deck
(c) divacultura 2013

Summer holidays - end of part one.

The first leg of my holiday finishes tomorrow.  I arrived at my brother's house five days before Christmas and have had a lovely time.  In between Christmas and family visits, I've been working for my brother catching up on his accounts, cooking, knitting, reading, enjoying having animals around the house.  I have also been to see a couple of movies in Tamworth since Boxing Day.

Family portrait - mother and foal.
Some of my brother's patients.
(c) divacultura 2012

Tomorrow I head over to spend a week with my folks before I head off to music camp.  The house is empty except for me and three cats. The other humans have gone out with my brother for a day of veterinary work.  The chickens are wandering around (I just thanked them for the two eggs they had layed). I occasionally hear the horses talk to each other.  I've put my ipod on shuffle and have just put a large quantity of oven baked bolognese sauce in the oven.  It will be turned into lasagne for this evening's dinner (good for when you're not sure what time everyone will be home for dinner).  It smells divine!  (Wish I could link to a smell for you...)

I'm in a very pretty spot here and the only other sounds are the drone of tractors cutting the lucerne for hay.

On the film front, I went and saw "Les Miserables" by myself a couple of days after Christmas.  I had been so looking forward to it, but I was a little underwhelmed.  I love Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe and thought they were excellent choices to play Jean Valjean and Javert respectively, but something was wrong.  Hugh's singing was a bit overblown and nasal at times and I know he can do better.  Russell did a fair job of Javert.  His singing was better than I expected.  It was tuneful but a bit wooden and plodding.  Still, I cried my eyes out several times!

The two stand outs for me were Eddie Redmayne playing Marius and Samantha Barks playing Eponine.  Eddie is my favourite actor of the moment.  I loved his work in "My week with Marilyn" and also in "Pillars of the Earth" which was screened recently on ABC television here in Australia.  (Shhh, don't tell me the end! I haven't seen the last two episodes.)

The other film I saw was "The Hobbit".  My brother and his wife chose this when I offered to shout them tickets as a thank you for having me to stay.  I had enjoyed The Lord of the Rings films so was happy to go along.  It's spectacular in parts, but is a fairly endless journey that the dwarves, Gandalf the wizard and hobbit Bilbo Baggins are on.  I was a little bored by the whole thing and was annoyed to discover we're only a third of the way there at the end of the movie!  I felt the same way about the book.  (I was supposed to study it for a speech and drama exam.  I couldn't get past the first chapter and still received an Honours grade!)

Yesterday I went to the creek with my brother and found two yabbies in the yabby trap.  They are now living in one of the horse troughs for the time being.

Up close and personal with a yabby
(c) divacultura 2013

Watch those claws! Love the spectacular shade of blue.
(c) divacultura 2013

The oysters we had on Christmas Day were also very good - even if they weren't plucked
from the water immediately before eating.
(c) divacultura 2012

When I took my four year old nephew to collect eggs during his visit, he was so excited to find two waiting for him, he clapped his hands together when he was holding them!  I noticed quickly and swooped before too much damage was done.  He looked a bit surprised and disappointed that they had cracked.

When I said goodbye to the same four year old I asked him who his favourite Aunty is.  Usually I'm on a winner, but today the answer was "No" as he pointed at my sister-in-law.  I'm okay with that.

The full moon rising over the hills was spectacular the other night.  Trying to photograph it with my iphone reminded me why taking possession of a proper camera again is on my list for 2013.

See that speck? It's the full moon peering over the hill.
(c) divacultura 2012

Sunset.
(c) divacultura 2013

The first email I received in 2013 was about how to insert a zip into a knitted article.
The first text message which wasn't about wishing me all the best for 2013 was from Metro Trains telling me that the 4:32pm Williamstown train from Southern Cross Station is cancelled.  Looks like some things won't change in 2013.

How hot was today? Pretty hot.

Today was so hot, even the flies stayed in the shade.

Today was so hot, even my eyeballs felt hot.

Today was so hot, I had to wear full corporate clothing (including stockings).  The first thing I did when I arrived home was to take all my clothes off.

Today was so hot, driving around in a car was very appealing.  The air-conditioning was turned up to "high".

Today was so hot, people commented that being on a train was the best place to be today.  The air-conditioning was icy cold.  

Today was so hot, I went to the movies to see something I wasn't terribly interested in.  It turned out I didn't enjoy it all.  The air-conditioning was the best part.  (I saw "Titanic" when it first came out because it was a really hot day in Brisbane and I wanted the longest possible film to make sure I maximised air-conditioning bang for my buck.  It turned out to be a good choice because there was a lot of ice to look at.)

Today was so hot, my bed felt like it was on fire.

Today was so hot, I didn't mind that I had no hot water.  A cold shower was just fine.

Today was so hot, I just dunked a tea bag right in my water bottle and I had tea.  No need for a kettle.

Today was so hot.  39.6 degress Celsius at 6:11pm.  

Tonight is so hot, I'll have to have my fourth shower of the day and cuddle an ice block.

Tonight is so hot, I wish I had a garden I could sleep in, or a teleporter to take me to Iceland for the night, or an air-conditioner that didn't burn brown coal to use it.  

Tonight is so hot, I wish I had a walk in refrigerator that I could sleep in.

Tonight is so hot. 

Tonight is so...hot.

Tonight is...so hot.

Tonight...is so hot.

Twenty-seven degrees Celsius at 11:20pm.  

It could be hotter.

How do you stay cool?

GIVEAWAY:
TO WIN a double pass to see "2 Days in New York" comment on this post, telling us where you'd like to spend two days and why.  Entries close next Friday, 30 November.  Winners will be announced on the blog.  Don't forget to check back and see if you've won - you'll need to provide your mailing address details.

Passes are valid during the season in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Gold Coast, Adelaide and the ACT.

Good luck!

Summer heat - officially gone troppo

It's so hot this evening, it's almost to hot to watch the men's final of the Australian Open tennis, let alone play tennis.  The wind is teasing, pretending that it's going to blow through a change, but it's full of hot air.

It's so hot, my eyelids are sweating.  My skin is sticky with perspiration and my hair is piled on top of my head as I try and keep my neck cool.  It's humid.  It's not supposed to be humid in Melbourne!  There was supposed to be no more of that when I left Brisbane for southern climes.

One of the things I love about weather is that people talk about it.  As though there's something deeply bonding in the joint admission that it is hot, or cold, or windy, or wet.  What is left to say?

There was a bloke I knew once.  His boss had a multipurpose statement that worked in all conversational settings and could be uttered without interruption:

"Oh-it's-hot-I'm-hot-are-you-hot?"

I suspect he came from somewhere in North Queensland where the local greeting is equally efficient, especially when little or no articulation is applied to its utterance:

"G'day-how-ya-going-good?"

The answer to both these questions/statements is "yep", said without pronouncing the first or final consonant.  In that regard it shares a startling resemblance to Portuguese.  But I digress.

As I languish in this heat, I recall the six months I spent working in Darwin as the build-up began.  It was an extraordinary feeling, like being in a pressure cooker where the pressure builds and builds and builds and builds for weeks and weeks and weeks.  It does something to your mind.  The local newspaper even featured an editorial on the phenomenon known as "going troppo" or "mango madness".  I have since discovered that the effects of the build-up feature regularly in the paper and usually reference random acts of violence or displays of anger from normally serene people. (Here's an example.)

So here I sit. Not on the couch - it's too hot to sit on.  I'm contemplating another cold shower and am wishing the shape of the cubicle was more conducive to sleep.

I'm too tired to stay awake and too hot to sleep.  What to do...research airconditioners online.

What I love about summer

Shiny, meaty cherries.
White peaches.
Oh and sweet, juicy pineapple.  It doesn't look as pretty, but it is heaven when it's great.  (Hell when it isn't.)

Music by the bay

I'm often not in Melbourne during this summer holiday period.  I usually continue my stay in the country and return at the beginning of February.  This year I had a day of work to attend to earlier and now find myself on holidays in my city during summer.

I was a bit worried about how I would spend the time because my business is very quiet at this time of year and there's not a lot of spare cash floating around.  No need to worry though, because I've discovered there are a lot of community events being offered for free.

Just down the road from my village, I have an "historic seaport".  It's a beautiful setting.  There's a park overlooking the bay which has big, shady trees and a rotunda.  The rotunda provides the perfect stage for musicians and the local council realises this and is offering free concerts on Sunday afternoons.  I put my camping chairs in the car, heavy duty sunscreen in my handbag, hat on my head and headed over to meet a friend and spend the afternoon with the Tim Rogers trio consisting of him and a cello player.

It wasn't too crowded.  People were gathered wherever they could find shade.  The council had thoughtfully placed big umbrellas to provide shade where there were no trees.  There was also a supply of sunscreen available. Kids roamed free and danced spontaneously and there was music.

The friend I met is a new friend and we discovered common musical tastes and talked about gigs and Tamworth Country Music Festival and lyrics and bands and other things.

Traffic was chaotic though and I wished I had a bicycle like my friend.  I managed to find a park only to discover the parking metre was out of order.  I photographed the parking metre and called the number provided.  I listened to about 90 seconds of information which ended with the instruction to leave all my details, took a breath and then was told that the voice mail box was full.  Oh well, the gift of free parking too!

We'll be heading back on another Sunday for some outlaw country from the Wagons.  Sitting out for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon reminded me of guitar afternoons at college which were put on as a "recovery" event after campus parties.  Music is indeed very good for the soul.