A week out from Christmas, I wake to something unusual. My husband is awake first! Even without coffee, he seems pretty pumped. Leans – looms – over.
Brandishes his phone: “Darling. Just in. Fantastic news.
” Unreal. Has the charger I’ve been looking for since 2018 been found? Fridge has sold on Facebook Marketplace? The mechanic’s decided it’s just a loose cap? Keith Urban wants to meet me? Botox is now free on the PBS for over 50s? Trying to plan Christmas lunch around the weather is a national pastime for Australians. Credit: iStock Better.
The seven-day forecast. “Christmas Day is going to be 28 and sunny.” Amid our shared exultation we may have fist-bumped.
The national sport that is Christmas Day weather has kicked off in fantastic fashion. Loading For Australians, the December 25 weather forecast is a religion. The stakes are higher than a Beefmaster at full sizzle.
Everyone morphs into Rob Gell, our hottest obsession the dice roll of 38 degrees with punishing sunshine or a muggy 25 with looming thunderstorms. Trusting but not trusting the Bureau of Meteorology’s website, we peer at the sky, analyse clouds. Our festive plans, lists, our moods hinge on whether we’re in for a scorcher, a washout or that elusive Goldilocks pearler: sunny, warm but not too hot, and no rain.
Why does our collective Christmas happiness seem to rise or fall with the temperature? You’d think living in a country where the weather swings from droughts to flash floods in th.
