We had Sair’s girlfriend to visit in August, and again over Thanksgiving.
Three Australian factoids have emerged:
1) There are no poptarts in Australia,
2) Australian wildlife is not cute. They will not even notice the zombie apocalypse since the undead will have to line up after the crocodiles, kangaroos, snakes, and spiders and wait their turn to have at the populace.
3) Apparently there are also not heating pads. There were cramps. Heating pad was set-up amid wonder and (muted by drugs) joy.
After a week here for Christmas, Sair will be off to visit her in turn, near Canberra, I think.
I forget how long the flight is, but it is basically gawd-awful long.
She is landing in Sydney, and will get to see Big Deal New Year’s fireworks there.
The Bay has fog.
Fireworks here are largely a disappointing matter of standing outside freezing in July, watching for colored light patches in clots of water vapor.
It makes you realize that this is all a ritual.
While in Australia Sair will listen to her Informed Local and not do stoopid things with animals.
And I am told they will not be anywhere near the areas where crocodiles COME OUT OF THE WATER AND DRAG GROWN PEOPLE AWAY TO EAT.
Nor will she fall off of said Local’s motorbike.
(If you could hear the silence of my Not Fussing At Them About It, you would be amazed.)
They will go to Tasmania.
The nice thing is that I adore Alex madly.
Though it is hard for Sair, having a loved one living on the other side of the world.
And for Alex too.
We will all just have to be creative about all this.