Wet Wet Wet – good name for a band, but bad meteorological situation.

Clever, insightful words of wisdom for the second blog of my life ? No,  I am reduced to writing about the weather. And yes, through the vastness of cyber space, I can hear your sigh. But please let me explain.  Even though I live on the edge of Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, famous for sun, sand and surf,  my antisocial bias leads me towards grey and bleak and overcast. Sunshine? Overrated and look what it does to the curtains. Blue sky? Hurts the eyes and blunts the emotions.  No, a decent spell of rainy weather is always welcome at my house…until now.  Even a sunshine grinch like me has had enough.  It has been raining forever. I am a Queenslander born and bred, yet this is more rain than I can ever remember.  As I write this, much of the state is either recovering from, or in the middle of floods and Gympie is now  preparing  for it’s time underwater.  We live on a hill, so there is no chance of flooding, but the results of the weather are obvious.  The floors are sticky with moisture, mould covers the fridge, the towels are permanently damp, as are the dogs, who have severe kennel fever. Much as I love my dogs, the stink of wet fur is not pleasant to the human nose. We have bought in the essentials – chocolate (me), wine (husband), beer (son), dog food (my furry, but fetid four legged friends).  The bridge to the rest of the world will be covered in floodwater tonight.  This should be perfect writing weather, but instead of creativity, I find myself obsessing over the mundane; rainfall totals, wind direction, river heights.

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