The heat is on, on the street; Inside your head, on every beat. The forecast is for mid-thirties today, mid-thirties for tomorrow, and mid-thirties for the weekend. All I can say is, "Oh-wo-ho, oh-wo-ho".
I like the heat. It takes me back to New Guinea, Burma, Samoa, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia - why, even Canberra had its hot spells, and none were hotter than when watching Beverley Hills Cop * on a hot summer's night under a slowly turning fan in the TV Lounge of Barton House. And you knew it was a particularly hot night when the Coke machine in the table-tennis room across the foyer had run out of cans.
The early days in New Guinea were the pre-aircon days. Sitting in the office under a barely moving punkah ceiling fan, the balance sheet I was working on would glue itself to the wrist of my hand. Later, after aircon had arrived, the chill would play havoc with my sinuses and the steady drone sent me off to sleep.
Which is what the drone of the passing boats does to me as I sit on the verandah overlooking the river. When it comes to boats, size seems to matter as does speed: despite a large sign designating this to be an 8-knot speed zone, every petrolhead roars past at more than twice the speed with only their IQ complying with the figure "8".
Anyway, it's time to go inside for another cuppa of Nerada Chai - "... a blend of tea and various spices; drink it with or without milk". Well, I drink it with a large dollop of honey and a dash of lemon and in large quantities morning, day and night. One of life's little pleasures.
* Blog contains a chronological inaccuracy. It's called 'poetic licence'.
