Today's air is a fine oxygen soup, infused with ateu de perspiratiôn, and the cries of all of those stuck without air conditioning.
As a Queenslander, I'm naturally equipped with the gills necessary to breathe the waterlogged atmosphere. Friendo is not faring so well in the moisture. She's more used to far dryer atmospheres. She's going back home, tomorrow. Into much clearer air.
She will be missed.
IF I had the money, there would be an extra little flat on our land. Suitable to house guests in luxury for as long as they wished, and Friendo and I could become each other's personal trainers. I might even build up my spoons under her influence.
And speaking of spoons, there's a collection of assorted dishwashing growing in the sink again. I must train my little darlings to wash up that which they put in. And teach my big darling too. We all live in this house. Half past time to make it truly live-able.
For all of us. By all of us.
I can't let it slip again.