New Year

So, here it is. A new year. Kids are home. It's bloody hot. We're still on water restrictions -- so much so that I'm noticing an increasing vigilante attitude around the place. Interesting for a writer to observe, even if not always comfortable. My local rag ran a piece about an old man who was being villified for watering his garden even though he was using tank water. People driving past would stop and shout obscenities at him, and he was feeling like it was only a matter of time before someone attacked him.

We had Boxing Day lunch here, and the water restrictions were the hot topic of the afternoon, and particularly a dispute about when people are allowed to water. We all knew the times that "normal" people are allowed to water, and we all knew that the "elderly" are allowed a different time, but there was some dispute as to when. (They are allowed to water on their nominated days, according to their house number, between 6 am and 8 am or between 8 am and 10 am.) I wonder if those who had it wrong had been out watering at the wrong time, thinking they were abiding by the rules. Perhaps they were lucky not to have been reported. It's like anything: ignorance is never seen as a valid defence.

The heat is pressing on us all at the moment, whereas Queensland suffers storms and flooding. With the heat, the kids spend too much of the day niggling each other, or fighting outright. It's too hot to do much more than laze around. Perhaps a good time to catch up on some reading.

In my old house, the study was the coolest room -- a good place to retreat when the weather turned sour. But in this house, it's not too cool at all, which makes writing a less-attractive option on stinking hot days. All I want to do is sleep...