Like Pins and Needles in The Psyche

When winter segues into spring in Sydney strange things start to happen.

Yesterday I walked out into the Surry Hills sunshine after teaching for two hours. There was a sticky suffocating heat slithering along the sides of buildings.

Twenty minutes later I left Hurstville train station to be hit by an icy wind that nearly hurled me sideways.

There are two opposing weather forces sandwiching Sydney – the red desert and the icy blue sea. As they slug it out for supremacy Sydneysiders appear remarkably unconcerned. For me and, I have noticed, for the Minx – this weather is discombobulating, it affects us like pins and needles in a body part we can’t find.

The Minx cannot find comfort in her life or dealings with others just now. Seemingly inconsequential things throw her headlong into a white rage.

Seemingly inconsequential things like –

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Shoes.

None of her shoes are tight enough. She pulls the Velcro straps so hard that she snaps them.

Today my husband is taking her to but a pair of shoes with laces.

Let’s just see what happens next.

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6 thoughts on “Like Pins and Needles in The Psyche

  1. Sorry to hear you’re both discombobulated… Miss4 is having sock issues, with the seam having to be adjusted perfectly 4 or 5 times when we’re already running late… I’m the one with the rage at this stage 😉

    • This morning there was a lot of gurning and not just from me. Herself was unhappy with the wind blowing her hair around. After burling Doggy around her head many times trying to hit the wind and hitting me instead she discovered – the wind heeds no one.

      Acceptance. It’s an art form right?

  2. I can sympathize. I am never more miserable than when it’s summer in NYC. The heat. The humidity. The crowded subways. The miasma emanating from streets, sidewalks, and the many homeless folks. All these things add up to 3 months of absolute hell in a city that has built itself into an oven made of skyscrapers that capture the heat and keep the temps hovering around the 90 degree mark well into the evening. Add to this the fact that we live on the top floor of a pre-war building, and, well, I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this. I quite literally spend the months of July – September in an overheated mass of sweat and misery. My tolerance levels drop to non-existent (just ask the tourists who block my path on 8th Ave, or the rather chubby denizens of this city who labor under the misapprehension that they’re ass fits in the allocated space on the A train, when, in fact, they take up at least 2 spaces, cram me against the sweaty person sitting next to me, and then have the gall to stare at me as though I’m the one crowding them!), I can’t sleep at night (the window unit air conditioners [remember, we live in a pre war building, no central air] make far too much noise for me to sleep while it’s running, so my poor husband has to make due with a giant fan blowing on us all night), and the largely Dominican contingent who call our neighborhood home have impromptu summer street parties with everyone from grandma to newborn sitting out on the park benches, eating, and listening to the Salsa station.

    I have a theory. I firmly believe that, thanks to mom and dad moving over here from Scotland, my DNA is wired to repel this kind of weather. The summer months affect me on a biological level. You can’t fight generations of people who find temps in the 80s to be “too damn hot”. My people are a cold weather people, and I belong firmly in their ranks.

    Just about the only good thing to come out of summer in the City is the fact that, due to how hot it gets in our apartment we are loathe to turn on the oven and make an actual dinner, so we tend to drop quite a few pounds. Healthy? No. Effective? Yes. But no worries. Winter is just around the corner, with all the down jackets, sweaters, boots and home baked cookies I could ever wish for.

  3. I found through your words something important, that I feel, and didn’t know how to put in words: acceptance, it’s a form of art. For that, thanks!
    I guess the Minx has thin feet, like me, and straps are always dancing around them. Lace up shoes are good, yes! I hope she likes them!
    How come I have come here kind of twice a week and I only got the previous post… and now I see this post is nearly 2 weeks old? It’s not the 1st time it happens, but alas, I will go on checking from time to time!
    Thought of you when my astrologer told me why I feel so good and different in the UK and not here where I am now – never felt. She told me that on my life chart Glasgow is THE city that crosses it and I was always eager to go there – without any explanation, apart from Franz Ferdinand. In England people ask me “why, but why oh why do you want to go there so much?” I guess I found the reason!
    Hope you are fine and that the weather got better there!

    • It warms my heart that you still check in with me Denise. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. There are a lot of things that I have not chosen to share with people here or in real life. Yet you still come back xx

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