I know I’m supposed to love autumn: the turning leaves, the cool days, the crisp apples. But I hate it.
It’s just the pretty season they use to anesthetize us with beauty before we get socked in with snow, darkness, and cold.
That’s why I’ve decided to become Australian.
It’s Spring in Australia
No, I’m not moving. I can’t afford to move half way across the planet because I don’t enjoy fall and winter.
Instead, I’m going to put on a pair of Australia colored glasses. I’m embedding myself deep in an Australia fantasy. I’ve already begun by:
- Watching hours of Robyn Butler television shows
- Covering my head when walking where birds are nesting in my gutters so I don’t get hurt when they attack
- Giving little nicknames to all my words; I’ll tell you all about it after brekkie
- Added Marmite to my grocery list
Later today I’ll be adding some patches to Honey’s fur to make her into an Australian Shepherd. (She wanted to be a dingo but I didn’t think she had the attitude.)
And I’m working on thumbing my nose at authority figures. Yes, I know Americans think we have that down but we pale in comparison with our Australian cousins.
Okay, have I missed any stereotypes? Offensive or otherwise?
Come to Australia—In Your Mind
Luckily I’ve found some great tourism videos to encourage my fantasies.
First is one that has tells about all the awesome animals that live there:
And here’s the second video I found funny. It’s a comic answer to the official tourism campaign that was banned in Great Britain and Canada for bad language.
Warning: This is not safe for work, for people who don’t like four-letter words, or for those who don’t think Australians have a better sense of humor than anyone else in the world (except perhaps the Canadians, but their humor is a little sneakier.)
If any of those describe you, don’t watch. I warned you.
Hopefully my little scheme will work. In my mind I’ll be looking for sharks on Bondi Beach or meditating at the foot of Uluru to a didgeridoo soundtrack. On the outside, I’ll be raking leaves and weatherizing my basement.
Because, frankly, I’d rather have scorpions in my underwear than apple cider in my fridge if it means winter is coming.
This post is dedicated to our friends Georgia Little Pea and her Typist with hopes that they can read the dumb jokes and broad stereotypes and still like us anyway.
If you’re reading this in the northern hemisphere, do you love the fall? Or does the increasing dark and cold have your sobbing into your pillow and eating cookies? How about your dog? Is she or he excited about the cooler weather?