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Following Shula’s lead on this one, a heat wave breakfast at my Mum’s desk (with cranky toddler at the other end of the house, being cuddled by Nanna) before I start work for the day.

It’s been a rough week. Not helped by the Bloke’s colleague saying “yeah, we had to spend the whole weekend in the pool” or others complaining in anticipation of high power bills because of their air conditioning. We’ve been outside only when absolutely necessary to fling our buckets of shower water at the garden. So now we’re clinging to this forecast the way some people believe in the possibility of a grand final victory or the second coming: a shower or two possible this evening or tonight.

Icecream coffee and fruity yoghurt

Edit: 6.30pm, 21 degrees outside, considerably warmer inside. No sign of rain… I did actually sort of do gardening though, I pulled out the dead cosmos flowers.

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I’ve got the Blackeyed Susans stuck in my head on rotation singing Too Hot To Move, Too Hot To Think.

And from this window, I can see the street below
I can hear the hit parade on the radio
There’s dirty dishes piling up in the sink
But it’s too hot to move, and it’s too hot to think

Now before anyone feels they need to correct me, I know it’s a Triffids song. I’ve got the Susans cover though, and it’s their version I’ve got stuck on.

I can hear the baby crying
Listen… Mama’s crying too
No-one gets much sleeping done
till they’ve been crying through and through

The only thing worse than lying awake at night in the heat is cuddling a teething baby who’s lying awake in the heat. I’m looking forward to the cool change.

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