It's Cold

Jesus! It is cold. Can I get an Amen? 

I'm freezing my arse off smoking outside on the back veranda, all the time texting David asking him if it is cold enough for him. It is biting out here. And David hates the cold.

I thought I was getting my heating fixed nice and early in the season, before winter, you know, nice and organised. But no, apparently not, for once in my life my timing was spot on. I'm never good with that, always way off.

It is sooooo freezing outside, winter is here. Not quite Jack Frost, but feeling like it is cold enough to be. Right off the Arctic. I don't mind, I kind of like winter.

I sit outside and puff on my cigarette, as my shiny new heating unit takes off and lands at Tullamarine, right next to me. But, at least the house is warm. The heating man is coming today to see if anything can be done about the fan, or if mine is faulty. Can something be done about it? He'll think I am one of those clueless lefty leaning, wine sipping... here the analogy breaks down... I don't know what.

"Nah, nothing wrong with it," he'll quip to the boss when he gets back to the office. "He's dreamin'."

Egg, smoked salmon and avocado for breakfast.

The sun is bright, the shadows of the hibiscus leaves, long across the brickwork, crisp, as I kiss Sam good bye. 

I have to go and play ladies at the doctor at 9.45. Walk there in half an hour, I reckon. Tra la la, take my phone, take photos on the way. Tra la la la la. I have bumps on my forehead and lumps on both my cheeks that need to be frozen off. There feels like a multitude of them. I am officially the Elephant Man. A flu shot. Check if I need to have any blood tests that may be due.

I had perfect blood pressure.

I’d lost 6 kilos before Easter hit. I pigged out over the chocolate festival. I declined to be weighed today.

There is nothing that can be done with the noisy fan on my flash new hydronic heating, "You have to live with your Concord, as purchased, sir." Seemed to be the last word.

"Really? With that high-pitched whistle? "You can hear it next door."

"I'm sorry." Carl shrugged. "They are all like that, they all have fans."

"I wished I'd know that when I was shopping for a new private jet," I said kind with a laugh, to soften it. Sarcasm light.

"Sorry," said blue-eyed Carl. 

And then I got lost in those Safire pools, I am sure they send Carl on purpose. And all I could think was, "yes, I'd suck your cock." Sam had pestered me repeatedly all morning about getting it wired up for a remote control capability. Nothing. None of that. "No, you wouldn't have to reciprocate."

Carl turned and left.

My arm aches from my flu shot.

I come back in from the back veranda, I have 2 sets of brown eyes. "You 2 moppets." And a yellow set from the couch. They are all friends. "Christian's Boarding Kennels," open for business. This is a snap.