EVEN THE POLAR BEARS ON MORT ST ARE COLD

AS YOU’RE reading this you can rest assured that I will be snug in bed.

Even if you happen to be reading this in the afternoon, the same applies.

Due to work roster schedules, I have a four-day weekend and I intend spending much of it snug in bed. I hate the cold!

Whether it’s because I was created and born in North Queensland or whether my strong aversion to all things winter is hereditary or invented, I hate the cold.

And, this week has been bloody cold.

Don’t go on with your “Oh, we don’t have winters like we used to” or “Oh, come on, we haven’t had a decent frost yet” — if we could have a frost-free winter, I, for one, would not complain. Well, not as much anyway.

I’ve been waking in the early morning darkness, my nose frozen, and shivering, dreading the walk to work.

An ill wind is blowing briskly, making life even more uncomfortable... and I haven’t even left the house yet.

The house my grandfather built in the 1920s is a typical old Queenslander with high ceilings under an iron roof.

While in summer it allows for the breeze to blow through, thereby cooling the house, in winter it’s a fridge.

I’m not kidding, my butcher has offered to rent my lounge room as a cold room in which to hang excess stock.

I sit on the couch watching TV and can’t help notice steam coming from my nose as a breath.

Yes, I’ve got split-cycle air-conditioning but living on my own I’m reluctant to use it.

To be frank, I’d rather freeze and whinge about it than turn on the airconditioning — and pay for it!

I venture outside to spot my neighbour (who starred in last week’s column) throwing a bucket of water over his car’s windscreen which is covered in ice.

“Mornin’,” I grunt to him. “Could you spare some of that water and throw it over my face? My glasses have iced up and can’t see the footpath.”

It’s one thing for the mercury to drop to single digits, as it has this week, but it’s that Toowoomba wind.

No matter what corner you turn in down-town Toowoomba, the breeze will get you.

It makes wind tunnels out of laneways and by the time I’ve arrived up the road for my early morning coffee, my eyebrows have iced up.

Is it any wonder my hair has turned

‘‘ I’M NOT KIDDING, MY BUTCHER HAS OFFERED TO RENT MY LOUNGE ROOM AS A COLD ROOM IN WHICH TO HANG EXCESS STOCK.

white?

A group of us met at an inner-city pub to watch the State of Origin on Wednesday night.

It would have been more comfortable to watch the game from my lounge room couch under a doona but this is State of Origin and we’re Queenslanders.

Fair dinkum, I’m so maroon that if you cut me I bleed red.

However, the reason we picked this pub is because it has a large fireplace in front of which I soon parked myself.

Several times the publican had to physically shift me out of the way so more wood could be applied to the fire.

I had third-degree burns by fulltime but at least I wasn’t cold.

But then, of course, you have to head home.

I swear walking home through the ghetto I passed a polar bear on Mort St who was shivering.

So, for anyone turning up at my place today don’t expect me to answer the door, I’ll be under two doonas in bed.

And, the only reason I’ll be moving is if the house catches fire... and only then when the flames reach my bedroom.

Have I mentioned that I hate the cold?