EX-TROPICAL Cyclone Alfred is like the uncle you see once a year on pop’s birthday, and it always gets messy.
Perhaps he came by Australia Post, tracking was all over the map and there was a late arrival.
Even then, it wasn’t what you expected.
Mum and dad bought special food for the pantry and said ‘don’t touch!’ it’s for when Alfred is here.
We were told to clean the garden. So, clutter from outside went into ‘that room’.
Everyone has a ‘that room’.
It’s the ‘room for room, room’ or the ‘make room, room’.
That sounds like an engine revving and what we expected from him.
While he was doing burnouts and turning beaches into cliff faces, a bit further inland, we were buying candles.
Alfred’s arrival needed to be super classy.
Yes, he was rowdy, but he promised excitement and the performance of a lifetime.
And then, we waited.
He was on his way but stopped at the Goldie for a cold bevvy.
Then there were gnarly waves and he spent ‘wave too long’ chasing barrels.
As he moved slowly toward us, he began to feel worse for wear.
Some of his huff and puff ran out, now the less intense Alfie was expected.
It was a good thing because hoarded snacks were being eaten and mum was wondering when outdoor furniture would be outdoor furniture again.
We were (sort of) looking forward to seeing him in action but figured he had a better offer.
There’s one thing you need to know about Alfie and that’s he’s not a quitter.
Thanks to him entire communities were cut off as he rained down in post bender drunken fury.
As water recedes over the coming weeks and communities rebuild, everyone’s hoping this is the last time Uncle Alfred visits.
Tropical Cyclones names are alternated between male and female, and the next one could be Karen.
Unlike Alfred, she’d ask for directions and turn up a week early asking to speak to the manager because no one was ready for her.
