Yesterday ~ January 26th, Australia Day~ the Australian Flag flew at my place in Sandy Utah, where for every US holiday the "Stars and Stripes" has pride of place.
My annual allowance of nostalgia in my Great American Adventure.
My mates in Australia celebrated Australia Day by being seared on both sides in summer heat - I had a backdrop of snow on the beautiful Wasatch Front. Same celebration, different global perspective.
In Utah, in the Salt Lake Valley, where I seem to be the only person without an accent, I could enjoy the songs and poems of my native country. (Too right, mate) My wife could show off her acquired "Strine" (Bewdy) and tolerate, for a while, my indulgent reverie and my occasional interspersed adjective. (After all, it is Tumbabloodyrumba that you might be headed for).
Ah, the celebrations, without the Cricket or the Tennis or The Races or the XXXX. (Stone the crows, mate, I still have the Australian spectator tendencies.)
I raised a glass because Ice Pick Strine.
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