Back in the late 1980s, when I still lived in Sydney and my children were quite smallish, we went through a rather severe La Nina. It rained and rained and rained - almost biblically, it seemed, for what felt like forty days and forty nights, and then some. Awful. The carpets felt damp and the house smelled of, um, damp carpet, I suppose. I couldn’t get any washing dry. Hmmm, wet undies, dirty undies or no undies at all - what a choice (especially with two young kids)! Leather shoes, belts and bags sprouted mildew in the wardrobe. Potholes yawned open on roads, some of them big enough to lose your grandma in. And the sky was grey; relentlessly, endlessly, horribly grey. Aaaaaaaaaaargh!
And now we’re having another one. It’s only 3 March, but already it’s the WETTEST MARCH ON RECORD in the ACT *sigh*. A rather large bit of waterlogged silky oak (the same silky oak whose roots block my drains, grrrr) fell down on my front fence the other day. Haven't tried to move it yet - why bother - there's sure to be another bit in this horrible weather.
During this La Nina episode I don’t have two small children suffering from cabin-fever and demanding cubby-houses beneath tables, and all sorts of in-house adventures involving cardboard boxes and lots of imagination. You might think that's a blessing - but I'm not so sure. Now, one is happily married and living elsewhere, and the other just loves couch-potatoing with some good DVDs in weather like this. I, it seems, am the only one with cabin-fever and a fit of the SADs (that’s Seasonal Affective Disorder, which is basically having the shits in extended grey weather.)
I can’t ride my bike – the weather is bad enough for several roads around Canberra to be closed due to flooding. I can’t get out in the garden without a bloody snorkel and flippers. I can’t go to Mallacoota because the Severe Weather Warning for the weekend suggested people should avoid East Gippsland this weekend – they’re getting the same shitty weather we’re getting in the Berra. Sigh. And I am so so SO over the grey skies!
How to combat the nasties that creep into your brain when your energy-sapping job joins forces with the forces of nature to dig you a big hole in which to flop? Not easy, I have to say, but I'm working on it.
I'm reading some great Val McDermid books and listening to some lovely Norah Jones/Eagles/Mariza CDs to take my mind off the weather and the cabin-fever. This morning I had a divine massage, then came home and plunged into a fabulously relaxing bath. The amazing pamperedness is managing to take the edge off the edginess - just. I’ve bought the right clamps from Bunnings to attach the bits of my woodwork project to my kitchen bench, so I can plane away to my little heart’s content tomorrow. And at Dan Murphy’s I found a bottle of red wine with dark chocolate essence (double whammy – wheeeeeeeeeeeee!) that ought to make this evening’s mood mellow, despite the 48mm in the rain gauge so far since 12.30pm.
Cheers!
PS - Please, rain – stop soon.
4 comments:
Message via semaphore from the Isaacs Cascades: What's the woodworkiing project, Sue?
Merely a humble breadboard, Andrew. Actually, it'll be a pretty flash one, to ensure I learn a whole heap of skills. At the moment I'm learning how to plane and dimension the bits of wood. Slow going, and I'm a bit nervous about having a go at it on my own in case I stuff it up! Still, it beats doing school work on my weekend, heh heh!
Old buddhist proverb: "That which you resist, persists."
It's OK to tel me to bugger off. I would... ;-)
My Dad would love that chunk of Silky Oak, I think it must be one of his most favourite timbers. Silver lining? ;-)
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