Laying on the lounge, contemplating whether the body
actually needed to go to the gym... well it was over 40 (104) degrees today and
surely it was working hard just staying immobile... the smell of smoke became
more noticeable. It grew steadily worse. You know for the record, in that kind
of heat you do lay there tossing up whether you want to find out if the house
is on fire or not. On one hand is that sense of self preservation and on the
other is the knowledge that you will have to move.
In the end curiosity won out and grabbing a pareo one
slipped out the door. Outside was slightly surreal. There were all these people
wandering around doing daft things like walking their dogs...
Who in their right mind voluntarily goes out in this kind of
weather to exercise Fido?
... in what looked like fog. The smoke was so thick and
grey and it slid around driven by gusting winds, that for a brief moment it
reminded one out of a scene from some Hammer Horror movie.
The fires on Stradbroke... an island that is off our
coastline and along with Morton Island stops us actually having any surf on our
beaches... have kicked off again it would seem. It left one with no other
options than to close the door firmly, in spite of the heat, say a small prayer
for those living on the island and retreat into His air-conditioned lair
bearing ice-cream as a peace offering tribute distraction bribe.
Sighs the weather hates one small slave... or it loves Him.
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