Tropical Tassie

I’ve lived here in Tassie 23 years, and I’m having trouble remembering a hotter summer, and we’re not even into the hottest month yet. Far be it from me to do a little Googling and check the frequency of heatwaves and mean summer temperatures of the last two decades, but with no fan whizzing around and no air conditioning to provide some relief, I had to think a little more laterally when the thermometer hit 34 inside while I attempted to distract myself from the discomfort by watching The Martian.

While Matt Damon used every resource available to survive his solitary ordeal on Mars, my solution proved much simpler. Drinking cold water with ice wasn’t cutting it, so to cool down my core temperature, out came my cold pack from the freezer. I keep it there in the event of insect stings, as I react rather badly, but wrapped in a teatowel it was the perfect thing to hug while his crew mates turned back from their homeward journey to rescue him by remotely blasting the intrepid astronaut off the planet in nothing more than a tin can with a tarp on top. In much the same way as a hot water bottle loses its warmth, the ice pack didn’t take long to melt, but at least it did its job long enough for me to feel a little more human.

I’ve never lived any further north than Brisbane, visited Darwin once, and I really have no idea how people can endure an entire lifetime in equatorial regions. The heat and humidity sap your energy; living in Queensland brought with it an understanding and greater appreciation of the phrase ‘Going Troppo.’

There's the slightest of breezes coming in the window, the sprinkler is trying to keep the backyard alive, and I’m waiting with much anticipation for the predicted cooler temperatures heading this way in a couple of days, just one more scorcher to get through before the relief.

Pervasive heat

even the air
is breathless