On saturday we close up the house and sip fluids judiciously inside as the temperature hits 39.1. On sunday I am layered, scarfed, parka-d and shivering as I read a map on top of Mt Dandenong. You are Here. Even a well-tempered melburnian can find such vicissitudes odd. As if someone is fiddling with thermostat.
Meanwhile people are throwing rocks at trams and a wave of copycat attacks is feared. And when a country train is derailed after hitting a car on the tracks, the first reports speculate whether it is a prank or an act of sabotage.
On Saturday we likewise closed up the house. Then we set off in the early morning to avoid forecast heat of the day with "grand daughter in residence" on our 5 hour round trip to visit the great grandmothers.
This was always a trip undertaken dutifully but reluctantly.
Half an hour into the trip grand daughter begins shock and awe projectile vomitting. Car turns back home.
A canary down the mine for safety. A grand daughter in the kiddy car-seat for sanity.
(That said, we ended up doing the hard yards on Sunday. Sadly my quick Sunday scrabble through the tailings at Ararat yeilded nothing remotely Midas like.)
Posted by Sedgwick at November 17, 2003 09:29 PM
Ah - so is this what the old 'baby on board' warning signs mean?
They should also face the inside of car to keep driver sane/clean? ;)
It was easy to be fooled by the concept of 'hot' on Saturday. Still novel in November.
But when you step out into it - it bites.
On the other side of January, 39 won't seem so
impossible or fantastic.
Posted by boynton at November 17, 2003 11:04 PM