An Ode to Upside Down Seasons
I forgot about October.
Completely forgot that it even existed.
The other day, Toff asked what I was doing with a couple of bags of coffee in my purse. We sell them at the bakery, and I noticed that they were meant to be used by November 6th. As it was already the end of September, I put them in my purse to take home since I thought there was no way we would sell that many by the time they expired. It took Toff a good five minutes to convince me that I was missing a month. Poor October. I'm sorry I forgot about you!
I used to love October. Apple picking and warm mugs of apple cider and fresh apple pie with walnuts and ice cream. Crisp leaves falling to the ground and enjoying those rare sunny days when you can wear that sun dress one more time. Halloween! How I loved the costumes and decorations and candy corn and trick-or-treating!
My first Halloween here, I wore mouse ears to work. And everyone asked me what the hell I was doing. "It's HALLOWEEEN!" I replied, a little exasperated. I don't mind making a fool of myself, but I prefer to at least have everyone else undertand my reasons! "Oh," they replied back, probably a little exasperated themselves, "and what does a mouse have to do with Halloween?" I didn't give up though. I kept my mouse ears and bow tie on all night, and even topped it off with a little black foam nose when there was a kid at the table. And the whole entire night, only one child recognized why I was dressed up.
Oh Australia, I do love you, but can we work on your appreciation of a day when it is perfectly acceptable for grown-ups to dress in ridiculous costumes? Please?
So now, October means something a little different to me. October means the days getting longer and our peach tree coming alive with beautiful blossoms. It means I get ridiculously excited when I can wash clothes and know that they will actually dry in the sun when I hang them outside.* This year, October means that I have a baby who is one year and one month old, and that the school kids are on holiday (or what I guess what you could call their Spring Break) so we have to guess as to how busy the bakery is going to be. Each new month and each new holiday poses this problem to us. So we guess how much food to make and how many staff to put on.....and then we take notes so we'll hopefully have a better idea for next year.
Living in a country where the seasons are backwards takes a little getting used to. I don't think that I will ever be 100% used to it either. There will always be a little part of me that truly lights up a little inside with the feeling of Christmas sometime in June or July. When the sky is grey and we have to light a fire every night and throw an extra blanket on the bed. I have met people who have lived here for 30 years, and you can still hear that certain American way they have with their vowels. The way they say toMAYto or don't ask me to repeat myself when I ask them if they want sauce on their meat pie. Because in Australia, "sauce" rhymes with "horse," (Yeah....figure that one out**) and every now and again I have to give up and just call it ketchup because someone will not be able to understand what I am asking.
I can, however, get rather used to having Christmas on the beach, with fresh prawns (sorry, shrimp!) and avocado. Maybe I will just have to start celebrating Christmas in July as well. As for October, I am sorry I forgot you, I'm working on it, I promise!
*We don't have a dryer. Most families here don't have a dryer. We hang our clothes to dry, and in the winter we just hang them by the fire, or simply inside where it will take them a good three days to dry. Our house always has clothes hanging somewhere, probably in what would appear to be really random places. Like from the old AC unit that doesn't work, or from the curtain rod in the spare room.
**It's not that "sauce" is pronounced "source," but rather that both words meet somewhere in the middle. A little like sahrwce and hahrwce, except more Australian and less Bostonian. There are some vowels here that I can just NOT say. And the Australian's lack of pronunciation of the letter "r" in words, so it comes out more as "ahr" I don't think I will ever be able to replicate.
Completely forgot that it even existed.
The other day, Toff asked what I was doing with a couple of bags of coffee in my purse. We sell them at the bakery, and I noticed that they were meant to be used by November 6th. As it was already the end of September, I put them in my purse to take home since I thought there was no way we would sell that many by the time they expired. It took Toff a good five minutes to convince me that I was missing a month. Poor October. I'm sorry I forgot about you!
I used to love October. Apple picking and warm mugs of apple cider and fresh apple pie with walnuts and ice cream. Crisp leaves falling to the ground and enjoying those rare sunny days when you can wear that sun dress one more time. Halloween! How I loved the costumes and decorations and candy corn and trick-or-treating!
My first Halloween here, I wore mouse ears to work. And everyone asked me what the hell I was doing. "It's HALLOWEEEN!" I replied, a little exasperated. I don't mind making a fool of myself, but I prefer to at least have everyone else undertand my reasons! "Oh," they replied back, probably a little exasperated themselves, "and what does a mouse have to do with Halloween?" I didn't give up though. I kept my mouse ears and bow tie on all night, and even topped it off with a little black foam nose when there was a kid at the table. And the whole entire night, only one child recognized why I was dressed up.
Oh Australia, I do love you, but can we work on your appreciation of a day when it is perfectly acceptable for grown-ups to dress in ridiculous costumes? Please?
So now, October means something a little different to me. October means the days getting longer and our peach tree coming alive with beautiful blossoms. It means I get ridiculously excited when I can wash clothes and know that they will actually dry in the sun when I hang them outside.* This year, October means that I have a baby who is one year and one month old, and that the school kids are on holiday (or what I guess what you could call their Spring Break) so we have to guess as to how busy the bakery is going to be. Each new month and each new holiday poses this problem to us. So we guess how much food to make and how many staff to put on.....and then we take notes so we'll hopefully have a better idea for next year.
Living in a country where the seasons are backwards takes a little getting used to. I don't think that I will ever be 100% used to it either. There will always be a little part of me that truly lights up a little inside with the feeling of Christmas sometime in June or July. When the sky is grey and we have to light a fire every night and throw an extra blanket on the bed. I have met people who have lived here for 30 years, and you can still hear that certain American way they have with their vowels. The way they say toMAYto or don't ask me to repeat myself when I ask them if they want sauce on their meat pie. Because in Australia, "sauce" rhymes with "horse," (Yeah....figure that one out**) and every now and again I have to give up and just call it ketchup because someone will not be able to understand what I am asking.
I can, however, get rather used to having Christmas on the beach, with fresh prawns (sorry, shrimp!) and avocado. Maybe I will just have to start celebrating Christmas in July as well. As for October, I am sorry I forgot you, I'm working on it, I promise!
*We don't have a dryer. Most families here don't have a dryer. We hang our clothes to dry, and in the winter we just hang them by the fire, or simply inside where it will take them a good three days to dry. Our house always has clothes hanging somewhere, probably in what would appear to be really random places. Like from the old AC unit that doesn't work, or from the curtain rod in the spare room.
**It's not that "sauce" is pronounced "source," but rather that both words meet somewhere in the middle. A little like sahrwce and hahrwce, except more Australian and less Bostonian. There are some vowels here that I can just NOT say. And the Australian's lack of pronunciation of the letter "r" in words, so it comes out more as "ahr" I don't think I will ever be able to replicate.
I remember the rabbit and the mouse like it was yesterday and not something like a dozen Octobers ago!
ReplyDeleteI love the cross-cultural observations, Cara...keep 'em coming.