... and a largely unrelated rant about Brisbane weather
I realise it may seem I have a bit of an obsession with food (or at least writing about it) but...
OH MY GOSH WHITE KIT KAT AND MILK COFFEE..... I'm in heaven.
Actually, I'm at work, but it's a Christian organisation, so can we agree I'm about as close as I'm going to get whilst on this pretty blue planet?
Seriously though, you've got to try this, it's like the two items (the Kit Kat and the coffee... ooh alliteration) were made for each other before the foundations of the world. Especially on a day like today... cold yet clear outside, the beginnings winter in Brisbane re-reminding the city's inhabitants that their architecture is just not designed to cope with temperatures below 20 degrees Celsius.
See, Brisbane houses are made for the summer -- they're open and breezy with flooring materials which hold the cool well, like tiles and wooden boards. So in the height of summer when you're too afraid to tip your head to one side for fear that your now-melted brain will drip out, you can take shelter on your verandah (is that an exclusively Australian word?) or in your kitchen where it will be at least a degree or two cooler than outside. These houses have been very wisely designed by a progression of builders over the past two centuries and for nine months of the year they serve Queenslanders well.
But.
Slight tangent which I promise I will tie back in with my topic: You know how your favourite time of year is usually the time when your birthday is? At least that's true with me. Well my birthday is in June, which in the topsy-turvy land of the Southern Hemisphere equals winter. So winter is a time of year that is very close to my heart, and maybe because of this I notice the Brisbane lifestyle's failings all the more.
(Here's the tie-in) As I said earlier, Brisbanian architecture - and indeed lifestyle - is designed around keeping cool. And while the Brisbane summer spans 3/4 of the year, I, due to my birthday focus outlined above, tend to place more weight than some on the other three months of the year. You know, those months when you feel like if you flicked your ear it would snap off and roll down the street. The time of year when you get dressed in bed because it's just too cold to even take your socks off without some sort of blanketular (new word) protection. And in keeping with my tendency to quote lists of three, the time of year when... hang on, I'm sure I had something before....
Maybe if I move on to my next point quickly, no one will notice I didn't finish the previous sentence.... To be fair, it's not just the architects' fault, and it's a sad fact that Brisbane-dwellers just don't know how to dress for the cold either. I use myself as an example: I got up this morning and it must have been about 8 degrees yet I washed my hair and left it wet, then went downstairs into our tiled kitched barefoot. Foolhardy? Yes. Brisbanian? Indoubitably.
My recommendation then, on the basis of the dubious and circumstantial evidence I have displayed so trivially here today, is firstly that Brisbane architects should design their houses to be warmer in the time of year that matters to me most, secondly that that Brisbane dwellers (including myself) shouldn't be so stupid as to try to rid themselves of all of their body heat within half an hour of getting out of bed in the morning and thirdly that everyone in the world should observe a strict milk coffee and white Kit Kat diet.
That's all. Go ye therefore and do my bidding,
Teegs 