Red attack!

Red everywhere.

Wednesday morning I woke 6:30am, my usual hour.

One serious problem.

Everything was red.

Red?

Kid you not. Checked outside and everything was also red. N o other colours.

Red! red! Red!

Do I give up the grog? Was it Armageddon? A terrorist attack? Had I died and gone to hell? Scary moments.

What's a red dust storm? Didn't know or care until yesterday. Now I'm an experienced dust storm survivor, I have fresh dinner conversation ammunition.

This red haze, churned by powerful winds that lifted thousands of tons of topsoil from the arid and drought-stricken inland, was visible from space, appearing as a huge brown smudge in satellite photographs of Australia.

The storm ripped an unknown amount of topsoil from farms across a huge swath of Australia.

This extraordinary event of nature amused our country cousins who smirkingly suggested we city slickers get a life and get over it. They've been there and done that.

Now the dust has settled so to speak, car wash merchants are gleefully rubbing their hands, ordering Rolls Royces and first class trips overseas. Home cleaning services are booked out and lifting hourly rates. The recession is over. Not that we had one in the first place but it makes good copy.

There are winners and losers. Someone has to benefit.