|Our new backyard|
The countdown is on. In a mere five days we will flee this hot, dusty, drought-stricken city and head for our mountain retreat 1426.7 kilometres away. These are the main reasons I’m so excited…
1. We’re moving to a one story house so I’ll no longer suddenly realise every single one of my five pairs of reading glasses are upstairs and I’m downstairs and I have to huff and puff up the hellishly hot stairs. I’ll be ecstatic to know I just have to shuffle through one (maybe two) rooms to retrieve them from beside the cosy fireplace.
2. I won’t walk out of my air-conditioned bedroom in the morning to be hit by a hot blast of air emanating from the general ambience of the area I reside in. It’s at least eight degrees cooler where we’re heading. I'll have tight facial pores and no more sweat trickling down my moustache and bum crack at 6:00 am.
3. It’s a very secluded location so there’ll be no chance of random drop ins, except for my parents who also have a house on Tambo. But that’s okay because my mum and dad changed my nappies so they won’t mind if they unexpectedly drop in and find me running around with no clothes on and chasing random rabbits that have burrowed their way into the house.
4. Apparently there are rabbits hopping around the backyard at our new house. I love rabbits… unless they come into the house and cause havoc with the fox terrier which has an inbred reflex to chase small animals. I will capture at least one and make it my pet. I will call it Flopsy.
5. Tamborine Mountain has a variety of craft/hobby markets every weekend so I can learn to knit/paint/sculpt/ make jam or become a rabbit taxidermist and make an income without getting a real job. I will dress like a hippie and nurture dreadlocks which I’ve always wanted. I might even have my nose pierced.
6. Absolutely NOBODY up there on the mountain knows me so I can start again, reinvent myself like Madonna does every year. I can be… like a witness protection person. I can lie about my age and pretend I’m only forty years old and am a direct descendant of someone famous. I'll be mysterious and exotic and bung on a posh accent.
7. I will be able to don Wellingtons on freezing cold mornings and take the hounds for a run on the moors. I’ll be able to fantasise that I’m Emily Bronte snuggled on her divan writing a novel whilst sipping hot chocolate. I’ll cook country style stews and the freezing temperatures will burn up the extra calories which will refuse to settle on my hips because of all my long hikes with my woodland creatures. I’ll listen to the rain on the roof and snuggle against the fireplace in the living room. I’ll drink mulled wine (whatever that is) instead of chilled Chardonnay and snack on roasted chickpeas whilst listening to Tchaikovsky.
8. The pink Paddington Bear coat I bought late last winter will finally get an airing. I’ll be able to wear my boots without inviting tropical fungi to infiltrate my toes and I’ll be able to wear beanies on bad hair days. Scarves will be my signature detail.
9. There is no sewerage or water supply on the mountain. Wait… what? None? So…I guess that means no garbage disposal. The poo in the sump system will freeze it will be so cold. Frozen poo doesn’t smell. Ask all those people who trek past it on Mt Everest. Not a whiff. I shall start a compost thing and grow vegetables (far away from the sump).
10. Scotto and I will pop up to the local tavern on weekends, rub our gloved hands together blowing out our frosty breath to warm them, then settle beside the fireplace with a bowl of hot chips and gravy. “This is jolly spiffy!” I’ll say. “Splendidly spiffy, Scotto!”
|Tamborine Mountain temperatures|
Okay, maybe it won’t be that cold. But it’s got to be better than what’s going on here at the moment.