This week it has been HOT. Hot as in 2 days of about 37C and one day of 40C. 40C is a crazy, mind melting, blood boiling heat. In Scotland a heatwave is announced when we have a few days above 20C - men strip off their shirts and women apply cooking oil to their skin to soak up every precious ray, everyone gets out on the street to make the most of the nice weather. When they have a heatwave in Australia fires start to spontaneously break out in the bush, people die due to heat stroke, there are power cuts and water shortages and the streets are eerily deserted. No one in their right mind would be walking around on a 40C day.
Monday was the worst day, when temperatures peaked and Julia and I stayed in again trying to keep cool. I now quite enjoy these quiet days of sheltering in the cool and dark inside the house, reading books or watching tennis or cricket on TV while outside the pavements are melting. Though on Monday our resolve was tested. Even with the air conditioning on full blast for the whole day it was a struggle. Julia sat drinking big glasses of icy water, with her feet soaking in a bucket. I stripped down to just my pants and cleaned the toilet and bathroom (apologies for putting that image in your head). I had three cold showers that day. I once ventured outside to see just how hot it was. It was ok for the first 60 seconds. It was sunny and pleasant and hot. Quite hot. Really hot. Really bloody really hot. Sweat began pouring off me as I stood doing nothing. Each breath of air singed my lungs. My skin began to tingle and prickle with the heat. Looking up and down the road there was no one around, just row upon row of silent parked cars shimmering and glinting in the sun light. It was creepy. I quickly went back inside.
I also discovered, to my own personal cost, the dangers of trying to drive on a hot day. On the following day when temperatures dipped to a chilly 37 I jumped into the car to drive to the swimming pool.
DO NOT jump onto the seat of a hot car when you are wearing shorts. It's like a blow torch being applied to the underside of your thighs. You know the little metal bit on the seat-belt that clicks in to the holder? On a hot day it becomes an evil burning metal ingot. It will seriously burn your hand if you reach out to grab it. And if you do get as far as starting the car and getting out the drive you will discover that the steering wheel is now a mass of molten sticky rubber. How do you control a car when you can scarcely touch the steering wheel? By flapping your hands about in between corners, blowing on your fingers and yelping. I am going to invest in one of those big silver sheet things that cover the windscreen. A good idea. Fortunately the weather has returned to a pleasant mid 20s for the rest of this week.
Oh, and the baby stuff . . . because that is surely why you are reading this - to find out if there has been a new arrival yet. Not yet! The doctor had thought the baby might come this week but we've decided that because I've been cooking such delicious meals the baby is quite happy where it is and isn't ready yet for the harsh reality of the real world. Julia says things are definitely moving around in there and stuff is kind of happening but we are not yet in proper labour. We saw the doctor again yesterday and she still seems to think it is immanent but we'll just have to wait and see.
One more silly car story: we had borrowed Larry and Ange's old Hyundai for this period, so we would have our own transport to the hospital when the baby does come. Sadly, I got in it yesterday evening and it wouldn't start. The RACV man came out and it turns out the fuel pump is broken. So the Hyundai has gone off to the garage. In the meantime I rented a hire car this morning - a little Nissan Micra. Except I didn't realize until I got in to drive away that it was an Automatic. I have not driven an automatic for many years but I figured it couldn't be too hard so I didn't bother asking for help. Instead I kangarooed around their garage for a few minutes, giving myself whiplash and just about pranging their other cars until a nice man came over and showed me where I was going wrong. I was still kangarooing much of the way down the road but by the time I'd reached home I think I'd got the hang of it (the secret is you only use 1 foot for both pedals, not 2 which means you end up with brake and accelerator pressed at same time) so hopefully Julia will not have too much of a rough journey when I do finally have to drive her to the hospital.
Once again - I'll keep you all informed if anything does happen.
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