Fan Death. There are many unbelievers out there, but it’s true! The fanblades chop up air particles so the air is no longer breathable, which results in suffocation. Either that or they cause hypothermia. If you find a dead body in a room with a fan running, then you know what is responsible! Fan Death… the silent killer.
Now I must run and cower in fear for the Fans of Doom are upon us.
No, they’re not really llamas. As per usual, they are the vicious Australian Alpaca. I think they thought I might have food, hence the desperate hurry over to the fence to sniff at me.
My quest to find llamas may finally come to an end if I go to Chile next year. Which I might do. As well as llamas it has fjords, volcanoes, deserts and a sofa to crash on in Santiago. What more could you ask for?
Oh USB key
Hidden safely in my house
I cannot find you
How to remove ice from one’s car at 6.30am in the morning
Step One: Realise the ice is there. This may take a while. You hop in the car sleepily, and cannot see out. Turn on the windscreen wipers. The windscreen wipers do not move. Become confused. Try to roll down your window. It does not move. The realisation may gradually dawn that there is ice preventing both items from moving. If you come from an area where it does not often get to 0oC overnight (or if it does, you’re usually not near the car until after things have warmed up a bit), this may take a while.
Step Two: Realise you cannot go anywhere until you convince the ice to leave. At this point you may begin pondering how on earth you can convince the ice to leave. The trusty saucepan of warm water (as much as Canadians may mock you for this idea) is a long way away.
Step Three: Come up with a plan of attack. You remember you have a container of water in the car. Maybe that will be enough to convince the ice to leave. You pour it on the windscreen, freeing the windscreen wipers. The rest of the ice seems more stubborn though.
Step Four: Become exasperated with the ice. It remains stubbornly on your windscreen, and although the windscreen wipers are moving now, they’re just scraping over the top of the ice. You still can’t roll your window down. You’ve turned the blowy hot air on, and it isn’t making the ice go away yet. Maybe you’ll go and stand and glare at it, and flap at it in an irritated and half asleep fashion, trying to convince it to go away.
Step Five: Have a stroke of genius. After searching the car and failing to find any useful ice scraping utensils, you remember you have a wallet full of plastic cards. By this point the other ice removal attempts (particularly the feeble flapping) have made the ice more amenable to leaving, and you can scrape a viewing hole quite easily.
Success: You may now drive away.
And more snow. Soft and fluffy for a weekend at Mt Stirling, infinitely more appealing than paying $95 for a lift ticket to queue at Mt Buller.
Pointing and laughing at the people over on Buller
Because the snow? The snow was good. And we hardly had to share – certainly not with millions of snivelling school kids.
Tree lurking on horizon line as the sun sets.
Skiier lurking suspiciously on snow-covered mountain as the sun sets.
Then came the snow shovel races!
Meanwhile, we spent the weekend cowering in fear in the face of the fluoro yellow pants of DOOOOOM