In January in Australia, the days blur.
Frequently, the sun scorches its heat, making footpaths burn, sand sting, seat belts sear onto bare skin, and the steering wheel leaves hands reddened. Shady parking spots in car parks are hotly (pun intended) contested, even for a quick nip into the supermarket for milk or bread.
For some, the beach or pool beckons, bringing timely relief from the burning heat. For me, the air-con is my best friend; I rarely leave its cooling flow.
I make no apology or secret that January is my least preferred month. School’s out for almost its entirety. Not being a fan of hot weather or beaches or bathers or sunscreen or sand or public pools, I choose to remain indoors, with the blinds drawn to keep out the sunlight.
Bad mum, I know.
I feel guilt for not taking my kids out to frolic in the waves or slather them with sunscreen so they can run and splash and play. But it’s too hot, I don’t like to sweat, and my already short temper gets even shorter, my nerves fray. Also, I actually would prefer to just sit here and write.
Right now, as I look out the window and into my backyard, I know I have to head outside. The pavers and the outdoor table and chairs are bathed in sunlight, the trees on the fence line not yet providing much shade. There’s a load of washing on the line, that was almost dry after I finished hanging it up. If I leave it for too much longer, the sheets will be stiff, like cardboard.
But here, as I eat my lunch in the quietness (kids on iPads…what was that I said about being a bad mum??), I feel cool and a sense of peace descends.
How’s your day?