Wooden spoons

and the tropics really don't go together so well. I got a spoon out of the drawer the other day in order to mix some gingerbread only to find the spoon had a distinctly fuzzy texture. I have learned now that one must dry wooden spoons to within an inch of their lives prior to putting them away. This applies also to anything fabric (say, just as a random example, the spare doona cover). Anything that has even a whisker of a morsel of half a droplet of water will funk up like nobody's business. Ah yes, just another joyous part of living in the tropics.

You may have noted from my tone that I make the odd comment about the tropics. I have lived here for nearly four years now, and whilst it has been an experience I have had enough. The heat is oppressive, the humidity is downright brutal, and don't get me started on the bugs and the wildlife. It never rains but it pours is a saying that was created here. And then there are the cyclones. And the floods. I know that everywhere has its risks...country Victoria had high bushfire risk, and there are other areas of beachy places that have their own other risks, oh and that reminds me, you can't swim at the beaches here between October and whenever because of those nasty little jellyfish stinger things...you know, the ones that kill you?

Agh. Anyway, I'm ready to move on, when we actually do is another question. I miss Melbourne. I never thought I would miss Melbourne, having lived there for 10 years and slowly moving outwards away from the city. However I'm looking realistically to the future and when I go back to work. I don't want to be working in a small town, I want to be working in the city. I could see myself actually getting to the point where I no longer work as a lawyer, rather as a barrister. That would be sensational. I reckon I'd love that. And yes, you can't do that here, nor would I really want to to be brutally honest.

I would probably come back here for a holiday, but would pick my time of year very carefully. I think Queensland is highly overrated though. They say you can travel the world looking for what you want, only to return home and find it at your door. There is a lot of truth in that saying.

It's funny though because I don't want to live in the city. I hate the city. I want to live somewhere rural. I love the country, wide open spaces, grass, air, trees, lack of neighbours. Kind of incongruous with the city isn't it.

So you see my problem. The things I want do not gel with one another. My perfect little world is in fact impossible because it simply does not exist. Ah well, I can dream.....

There are some things in life that are painful, and some things in life that are uncomfortable. Then there are those other things that defy definition. Not for any other reason than they are just difficult to describe. Having a pimple up your nose is one of these things, and I have been blessed with this indefinable occurrence since Christmas Day. My nose is itchy, but it hurts to scratch it, I have been sneezing more than someone locked in a pepper factory with an industrial fan on.

The girls are jabbering on about something about which I have no idea. I think it is breakfast cereal related. They both got up hideously early this morning so with any luck Tabitha will go down for a sleep sooner rather than later, preferably at the same time as Angus, and I can make a start on the next of the essays. I'm actually quite looking forward to this one....I get to surf the net, do some digging, and see what Julian Assange is really on about......