Is June the Antipodean equivalent of February in the UK? It’s cold, swine flu is taking a grip and government departments recklessly try to spend all of their money before the financial year ends so they can get even more money next year to form committees and strategic insight branches and have morning tea. Now, when I say cold, usually it means I’ve had to put a jumper on, perhaps turn on the heating, but this week saw overnight lows of -6, the lowest daytime high in about 40 years (it topped 4 degrees) and potential swine flu cases left right and centre. I have had bouts of lethargy, sneezes, headaches, body aches but part of me doesn’t know if it’s down to the time of year or comeback for all those pork pies I’ve gorged upon in the past.
Before the lowest daytime temperature since 1966, we had some cold nights, leaving a dump of snow on the nearby hills but clear skies nonetheless, captured in the morning up Red Hill and again in the evening up Mount Ainslie.
I think I have been to Mount Ainslie three or four times in the past week, though the sub 20 minute ascents have been absent and the wheels have been taking the strain. Last week you would have since my foggy time up there, and it happened yet again on Saturday, though only this time it was a bit lower and gradually dissipated as the thermometer nudged into the positive. I don’t know how many pictures I’ve taken from atop Mount Ainslie, but these ones were at least a bit different (er, yeah, apart from last week).
And while the barbies are put on hold and a trip to Queensland is sounding ever more appealing, the smell and taste of a slow roasted leg of lamb, falling off the bone, smothered in warming gravy, with smashed veggies and roast potatoes at least provides some very welcome comfort. There’s some leftovers if you wanna pop by. Just bring the sun with you.
Before the lowest daytime temperature since 1966, we had some cold nights, leaving a dump of snow on the nearby hills but clear skies nonetheless, captured in the morning up Red Hill and again in the evening up Mount Ainslie.
I think I have been to Mount Ainslie three or four times in the past week, though the sub 20 minute ascents have been absent and the wheels have been taking the strain. Last week you would have since my foggy time up there, and it happened yet again on Saturday, though only this time it was a bit lower and gradually dissipated as the thermometer nudged into the positive. I don’t know how many pictures I’ve taken from atop Mount Ainslie, but these ones were at least a bit different (er, yeah, apart from last week).
And while the barbies are put on hold and a trip to Queensland is sounding ever more appealing, the smell and taste of a slow roasted leg of lamb, falling off the bone, smothered in warming gravy, with smashed veggies and roast potatoes at least provides some very welcome comfort. There’s some leftovers if you wanna pop by. Just bring the sun with you.
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