For those of you in the northern hemisphere the Christmas season here probably makes no sense. But picture it as if it is a combination of the summer in July and the madness in December. There is something about the Christmas season here that changes life. It is hot, dry, stormy, it is the seaside season and BBQs and camping, it is family get-togethers and end-of year functions. It is so many things to so many people. And with our mixed culture it more or less goes on till 6th January as the eastern Orthodox people celebrate their Christmas on January 6th! Lucky them as they buy all their gifts for 50% off at the "after Christmas sales".

It is also peak suicide season as the dream of "Christmas with family and friends" downgrades into family feuds,walkouts, broken dreams and the slaughter of ideals. It is the time when people drink more and fight more. The post Christmas bills come in and people realise for the first time that their annual extravagance has them in the grip of debt once more. The impact of road accidents and other fatalies bite and the world seems less glitzy as the decorations in the shops come down and the rough reality of life sets in again.

For caregivers like me the services we rely on are scarce over the Christmas period so we are down to minimum hours, this for me is five hours, showers for Ray on Tuesday and Thursday, three hour minder on Friday. Which means Ray is irritable because he is out of routine and complaining once more that "she is always dragging me around". Yep, those shopping expeditions turn gigantuan as we battle through the tourists that flock here for the holidays season so the three hour shopping trip can easily turn into five hours as we queue, queue and queue some more to get to the check-out,to get into the next queue at the next store. The heat and the noise and the people bumping into Ray's wheelchair, some snarling at us until they see it is "just some poor bloke in a wheelchair, poor coot" as one guy said to his shopping companion. Funny how that "peace on earth, goodwill towards men" feeling evaporates so quickly after Christmas. I just wish it would hang around for a while and see us through the post-Christmas doldrums

Then there is the heat, the hot nights, the humidity and tossing and turning instead of sleeping. I find it difficult to fill the days in a satisfactory way sometimes. Just the lack of normal social structures as our friends are away camping, boating, visiting far-flung family while the grandchildren are alway from school for the seven week summer holidays. Of course some of our friends are the emergency minders while their grandchildren's parents go on working. So ringing them is futile and waiting for them to reply to emails takes a lot longer. Where are you all, I want to cry, why have you gone off just when I need someone to talk to ? The whole pattern of life seems to be shaken up like some bright summer kalaedoscope.

Summer was a time I once relished. Summer meant days at the beach, beside or on the river ( we had a power boat for a while) camping under the stars. We often took a picnic meal somewhere pleasant, somewhere in the path of a cool breeze, after Ray came home from work and stayed out till the first stars appeared in a clear summer sky. Now it means : "how will we get through today?" The heat can mean Ray's sugar is out of whack, he feels clammy and his general attitude is grumpy. It is hard to be cheerful when you don't sleep well. He complains that food tastes strange and just eating hot food is unpleasant. It is okay to spend time on the verandah but mid-afternoon, if he is still awake, he has to come inside as he feels the radiant heat from the sun then. And he is no longer an outdoorsy beach person. He would rather sit in his comfy chair than on a bench near the beach.

So things get a bit fraught as neither of us are in a good mood and I find simple chores take longer. Gardening, usually my relaxation past-time becomes futile as the spring plants wilt and die under the onslaught of the first really hot days and the weeds grow so fast that the mowing man often comes fortnightly instead of every three weeks to keep it all under control. Nothing like looking out at all those weeds where your spring plants once were and thinking that as soon as it cools down, if it ever does, there is that task ahead of you. It makes you feel like putting the whole lot under concrete and pavers.

But we finally make it through. The Daycare bus came this morning and the cheerful crew loaded Ray an board and off he went, he will be back at 2.30pm but he will go straight to bed as being out and about again really tires him out. And next weekend our grandchildren from up north will be here with their parents and our focus will be on them. Spare a thought for friends ringing in and saying: "I thought I'd ring up and find out how you went over Christamas. Seems a while since I've spoken to you and so..."

Yippee, we finally made it throught the Christmas season and back to the safety island of routine again.