Skip to main content

Puff the Magic Dragon

I really knew winter was here when I stepped out of the house one day and the ground was covered in frost. Sure, Australia sees frost, so the shimmering swards of grass on Hatfield Mead were not a surprise. What was a surprise however were the frosted sidewalks, which I had to negotiate so very carefully for about 500 meters. Every drop of water on a surface was frozen - I had certainly never seen frosted concrete and tar before. I haven’t seen it since either, so thankfully I have not needed ice-skates to get to the bus again. As I turn out of Hatfield Mead each morning to go to the bus, I look out across Morden Park, and on a clear day it is a sight that never fails to remind me I am in another country. The bare branched trees are many-masted ships ghosting above the mist that obscures their trunks and the grass completely veiled in silver frost. I now understand what crystal-clear air is about ... nothing else really describes the biting crispness of the atmosphere on a cloudless day, you feel as if you could see forever. Overcast days are absolutely no fun, though they are that little bit warmer. Sometimes the sun is even out (gasp!) and there is a wash of orange on the mist and red on the grass so it looks many degrees warmer than it is.

The most entertaining part of the morning for me is my blissful ‘Puff the Magic Dragon' moments. Whenever Perth was cold enough for your breath to steam I would act like a child and pant and huff as much as possible to get a tiny wisp of steam. So naturally, each morning as I mope out the door into the cutting wind and biting air, the only thing that cheers me up is a good, long exhalation so I can stride out in my own personal cloud of steam - guaranteed to brighten anyone’s morning. The only sight that cheers me up more than watching a column of steam rising up from a well peopled bus stop, is the sight of the morning runners, bundled up like eskimos and trailing steam like the Hogwarts Express.

Popular posts from this blog

Textbook

Trust me, they know the climate science Let’s imagine for a moment that the 1% of Australia, with their university degrees, access to the best climate science and neoliberal think tank papers and their dominance in politics, were acting in rational self-interest. They know that the water and energy wars are coming and they have a country with unique assets: No land borders Renewable energy resources Space and minerals Industries that specialise in extracting minerals Industries that can be turned to R&D and manufacturing An education system to get citizens to the point of carrying out necessary R&D And a politically apathetic population that believes whatever the politicians tell them through monopolised and crippled information outlets. To be honest, if I were a conservative politician in Australia (and the way I was brought up, I may as well be), this is what I would do to ensure my political and social survival: I would claim the government didn’t believe i...

Full Contact Origami

When I was a secretary at ADI, spending my days: a) writing up tutorials for my Uni course, b) having countless running email conversations with workmates and Kristen in Canberra, and c) not really doing anything I had a vast word file of all the jokes I had ever received. I am sure I have it SOMEWHERE in my box of important papers, but this one, recently sent to me again, was one of my all time favourites. I use the phrase ‘full contact origami’ all the time, usually during my ‘torment a barfly’ routine during which I tell sozzled Lotharios that I am a retired World Bootscooting champion who is looking to move into acting in karaoke video clips and was born on Ayers rock because my mum wanted me to channel Azaria Chamberlain’s spirit. Blessed are the jokers, because they will get mates rates at the bar in heaven. The following was published in The New York Times. This is a NYU college admissions application essay question, and an actual answer written by an applicant: Qu...