It was a few days before Christmas, the

small flakes of snow began to cover the

window. December 1947 was one of the

coldest months Ireland had ever

experienced.

And that was why my father bought a pair

of longjohns.

They were white and woolly. My brother

and I fell about laughing when he appeared

one morning wearing his amazing new

under apparel.

“You look like John Wayne on a bad day”

my brother shouted as we both ran off.

Today, mid July, is the middle of an

Australian Winter. The temperature has

reached its lowest limit and my fragile ears

feel like ice blocks. Somehow it reminds me

of that morning from long ago.

The reflection from my frosted window

shows an old man holding a cup of coffee,

standing in his longjohns. He looks

remarkably like my late father,and, I must

say, strongly resembles John Wayne- on a bad day.