The storm we had last week was huge. Instead of little white hail stones, I had clear jagged lumps of ice hitting the glass around the house. I had Niagra Falls over every spouting because the downpipes couldn't cope nor could the drain in the carport so that flooded. To give you some idea of how much rain fell, I had the big yellow recycle bin emptied in the morning and that ended up half full of water. A neighbour had to help me tip it up to empty because I couldn't move it. I'm going to be thinking of that storm when the temperature hits 40 degrees plus on New Year's Eve.
Then we got more the next day and I rescued a dove. So I looked around for Noah and the Ark but only the dove. Poor little thing, its feathers were so drenched and it was so battered that it was staggering across a busy road. Regardless of my own safety (read stupid) I shepherded the wee bird to the grass verge where it recovered and flew away. My Christmas good deed.
This is what I love about Melbourne, I get to whinge about the rain and two weeks later I get to whinge about the heat. The heat not only makes me lie and down and do nothing (colour me expert) but it brings out the wildlife. Huntszilla number three was caught and chucked out late last night. This one was a little agressive and I had to chase it across the ceiling before it dropped into the bag. Number three might only be one and two getting back into the house and it certainly knew a trick or six about avoiding the bag, like backtracking out of my line of sight. Nerve-wracking in the small hours.
Mummsy is her usual sweet self. I told her I was dying, sorry, enhancing my natural colour and she said why didn't I go gray, "..... after all you are old now!" Okay, thanks, without that I might have forgotten. Just to make sure, I have Pavlov's Cat's middle age meme to do. The excitement of it all.
Bring on 2008, I have tickets in Tattslotto, I will be rich.