Legends from our own lunchtimes

Sunday, June 08, 2014

Breaking the wheelbarrow habit.

Summer comes with a vengeance when it comes, and today it arrived with temperatures in the high thirties.

When temperatures are in the high thirties, the best way to find relief is to invoke the ancient cure for sea-sickness: find a shady tree and sit under it with a good book.    Since seasickness wasn’t involved, we substituted lunch for the book, allowed the eager Mr P to transport us a kilometre or so upstream until we found a shady tree, threw the roof back, and just sort of whiled away the afternoon with a little duck breast and goat cheese to assist, retiring in the cool of the evening to the home of the other two.

Mr Perkins was on his best behaviour, although he dribbled coolant ever so slightly and there was a distinct lack of odour associated with his admittedly brief performance.  His off-sider, the newly modified propeller performed equally stirlingly.

Summer is a funny thing here.  When the temperature hits thirty, we think we are going to melt and go scurrying off for cold drinks and deep shade and preferably an even deeper cellar to hide in until the weather becomes more respectably cool.   It truly makes us wonder how we survive summer in Australia digging ditches and wheeling barrows in temperatures much higher with five times the humidity to boot.

I do confess though whinging about the heat while lounging on the water in the shade of a tree while sipping ice cold Perrier is my alternative of choice.

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