August is halfway over and we will all be getting excited with spring just around the corner.
But I must say, last week I was wondering what had happened to our usually miserable westerly winds and chilly conditions which we usually get around Ekka time.
Early last week was quite hot, which lulled me into a false sense of security.
But not to let us down on the People’s Day public holiday, the westerly winds arrived just like clockwork and brought back memories of past Ekkas.
It actually helped me figure something out. It has never been a great month for me.
About 40 years ago, I had pneumonia and ended up in hospital for a week.
Every year after, for about a decade, I got the ‘man flu’ bad in August – probably from where my psychosomatic disorder blossomed.
I also have this recurring dream that pops up about this time of year, where I am lost on a train (which is weird). But last Wednesday night, while I was walking George the dog, I had an epiphany.
I was about four when I went down on the train with mum and dad to the show on my very first trip to the Ekka.
I had no experience of a show, apart from the Eudlo May Day Sports and the Nambour Show where I was age champion for eating hot dogs and toffee apples.
So it was a bit of a shock to all of a sudden be in Brisbane with thousands of people – a short, fat, country kid looking for food.
We had been there about an hour and I somehow got separated from my parents. I was found bellowing like a foghorn on steroids by a concerned citizen and taken to the police office (not the last time in my life).
I did get an ice cream which served the purpose of shutting me up and, about half an hour later, my parents turned up and all was good. But 60 years later, it probably does explains a few things.
I hate crowds and I am claustrophobic – both probably because of that short fat kid getting buffeted by the masses, trying to find his mum and dad.
It also explains why I like ice cream, and I guess the train dream is a combination of the whole experience.
Thankfully, the ‘man flu’ has left me, but the next time you see me in a crowd looking stressed, hand me an ice cream and tell me it will all be okay. Just don’t mention trains.
