Enter the Ice Dragon

Enter the Ice Dragon

Sub-zero temperatures in regional Queensland this morning. Well, by one degree Celsius anyway. Here’s the thing though. We’re not equipped for the cold here. Our houses aren’t centrally heated (I’d never even seen a furnace before I moved to Alberta, Canada; I actually wondered what the hell that roaring behemoth was in my mother-in-law’s basement, until the ex explained it to me. Hell, indeed). We don’t have the appropriate clothes – I personally don’t own a pair of gloves, a scarf, thick socks or insulated shoes/boots.

So, actually getting out of bed is an exercise in discipline knowing the cold in the bedroom is going to be like a knife against any exposed skin. Outside, it seems like Narnia’s White Witch has swept through leaving cold and ice in her wake. 338937C4-9C6D-4D93-93CD-2A4C2862D8CDWrestling the steel buckles on the horse blankets with bare fingers is a new experience in pain. About the only positive is the dog poo is easy to pick up because it’s frozen solid rather than a steaming pile of mush.

You very rarely see me sitting in the sun. I suppose like many Australians I’ve been educated to huddle in the shade whenever possible. However, today I sat in the beating sun outside my office building to eat my lunch. The warmth was orgasmic and my feet finally started to thaw after the tramping around in the frosty paddock this morning. And it was while I thawed and with my mouth full of a Macca’s filet-of-fish that a familiar ute rounded the corner of the street and parked right out the front of my office building. I think I was shocked mid-chew as Tom swung himself out of the ute.

Of course he called out an exuberant, friendly greeting. I used to wonder whether all the super friendliness and cheer was artificial, but I know Tom well enough now to know it’s genuine. He’s too straightforward and uncomplicated to put on an act like that. If he feels friendly and cheerful, he’ll show it. If he feels love, he’ll show it. If he feels anything in fact, he shows it. There’s no subterfuge or pretence. And anyway, I’m done with feeling suspicious of people. Takes too much effort and frankly I couldn’t be bothered.

Naturally, I was flummoxed, especially when he sat down on the step next to me. I could actually feel the warmth radiating from his body. However, once he started to talk talk talk I was lulled into comfort. I could be alone in my head while he droned on, and I could collect myself.

Turned out he had an issue with his brother’s estate. I crammed the rest of the filet-of-fish in my mouth and told him to come inside to my office.

Big mistake. We should have stayed in the public eye. Tom and I can never be alone because the lust monster stirs. And the lust monster had been hibernating for a long long time and was very hungry – a rampaging, teeth-gnashing, hot-blooded, fire-breathing Luis Royo beast. For posterity,  and because I trashed an earlier highly personal post from a while ago about Tom that  featured this image, I will feature it again now; it may be also understood why I closely follow it with Luis Royo:


Artwork by Luis Royo

It’s going to be another cold one tonight. And an even colder morning. More like the Ice Dragon visiting than the White Witch. Just the thing to quell the savage beast. Hopefully.



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