So here we are in for a bout of hot, hot, hot weather.
It will be me sitting in the shop in front of the fan today. It will be me sitting in an unair-conditioned car tomorrow going to the family's postponed Xmas. It will be me on Monday quite possibly hiding at home with the curtains drawn (41ºC is just too much and I just feel disinclined to spend it at the studio).
So while the images of snow bound Europe seem so foreign and exciting while we swelter, I know that there are people stuck in the freeze with no power and transport. And I know a few parties who are hopping on planes in the next few weeks to come back to the Antipodes. Let's hope those plane can take off- or rather that they can get to the airport which is probably more of an issue!
I've been having strange dreams of late. Mainly centred around Tasmania. Like I said 'strange dreams'. I think it's the heat. I've been dreaming of the cold and the rain and the verdancy that I so enjoyed in August. If I look at the weather reports before going to bed then I dream of Hobart and the doily tree in the park down there. This dream involved visiting the park and supposing that the doilies would be gone but coming around the corner to discover it sitting in the centre of masses of yarn bombing. Crochet and knitting dangling and looping from branch to branch as if it had all miraculously come to nest there. And people had hung wishes and dreams in amongst it all. So weather maps give me strange dreams bit like cheese before bed.