You remember how for some reason, whenever you returned to school at the end of January some truly spectacular weather seemed to follow?
You’d look longingly out the window at the sunlit grounds and wonder what sort of fun you could be having away from the stifling hot classroom: catching lobsters in the creek; riding down to the swimming pool; hanging out in the “dead centre” of town with your mates; shooting rabbits with your father; tormenting younger brothers; climbing trees, and building huts in the scrub.
Back at work after three weeks away it feels a little like that at the moment. I’m lucky that the office is air conditioned, so at least the unpleasantness of an over-hot workplace is avoided. But I can still look out the window and see a lot of recreational possibilities I’m missing. (I’d miss them anyway – first call on my time outside work are the girls – but it’s still out there in front of me.) People in shorts and t-shirts are heading for the waterfront; yachts are sailing in the harbour; there’s bound to be some swimming at Oriental Bay; more convertibles are on the street than ever; the wind has dropped and my palm on the window glass tells me it’s very warm outside.
And I’m in here. Great.