Keep your whites shite...

Just wanted to paint a picture of something absolutely adorable I saw the day the dust flew into town .

I was driving to the beach to walk young Billy... The windows were all up, except for Billy's - he likes to look out the window as we drive... the dirt flying around outside was so thick you could taste it and feel the grit building up between your teeth, the escaped remnants slowly entering your lungs and filling your nostrils (felt like I was at Melbourne BDO at Flemington with the dust and tumbleweed blowing around - you just know you'll be blowing black snot for days).

We wind down the hill passing a bunch of cream and light pastel coloured houses (yes, I live in a town which could be classed as a large retirement village)... The front of which have turned red from the dust, whilst the sides remain clean as a whistle... the contrast was unbelievable.

Driving past the Bowls Club, there are a bunch of primarily elderly men , enjoying their Wednesday arvo game... to be followed by a couple of ice cold Schooners of XXXX Gold.  From head to toe they are covered in the crisp whites, that their cute elderly wives washed with tender loving care, a cup of surf, a little sunlight and a sprinkle Napisan to keep the whites at their optimum whiteness.

The men's backs faced the road as they crouched down to focus then bowl... as the wind blew in from the norwest, the back of their whites had all turned a lovely shade of reddy brown.  However, as they turned to face their fellow bowlers to gloat or mope, they'd expose their fronts to reveal the white crispness Maude, Doris, Joyce, June and Patty had worked so hard each Thursday morning to maintain.

I smiled to myself and drove on.