Autumn Troppo

Funny Water Penguin Animal Blue

It’s so hot even the penguins have chafed armpits!

Folks, technically it’s Autumn, and if Summer doesn’t vamoose soon, fights will be breaking out at Buddhist picnics.

Honestly, the temperatures, and steaming humidity, are still so high that normally sane people are starting to go doolally. Years ago, when we lived in Far North Queensland, they had a word for this seasonal, weather induced madness: Troppo, i.e.: tropical hysteria.

Whenever we heard that some overheated wretch had shot their car to pieces and run off screaming (usually buck-naked) into the scrub, the sweating adults would mutter, ‘Yeah, poor sod’s gone troppo.’ Then they’d finish their beers and organise a search party; eventually.

Usually, just before Christmas, the rain clouds would arrive like an invading army, delivering downpours of biblical proportions. The temperature would drop, frogs croaked with delight and everyone calmed down a bit. A week later we’d all be whinging about the humidity and rampant mildew. People, we’re never really satisfied are we?

Then one day, we got into the car and drove south to live in a place with more than two types of weather, i.e.: stinking hot and dry, stinking hot and humid. Perhaps we should have tried a bit harder and pushed on to Tasmania?

Fortunately, modern technology has bought Tasmanian-like weather to the inside of our sub-tropical home, and not a day goes by when I don’t thank ‘Kelvin’, the small god of air-conditioning. Because without the blessed, glorious, artificial relief his air-cons provide, I reckon I’d have run screaming into the scrub, minus clothing, several months ago.

Still, as we recline in temperatures set to ‘Arctic’, I’m aware that we’re probably not helping the current climate situation as our nearby coal fired power station ramps up the turbines to cool our house.

Of course, they won’t miss us when it comes time to send out the power bill. But I’m happy to pay for all that delicious cold air, even if I have to sell off my priceless collection of milk bottle tops, empty rum bottles and some of our furniture.

Well, it’s either that, or I go troppo waiting for Wintery relief.

About Greg Bray

The scribbler behind the 'On a Lighter Note' column.
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