Gem asked me to blog about winter activities. Now that it’s winter I can blog about winter activities.
Just to clarify winter activities are not just activities that you do in winter. No, the phrase comes from this now famous blog post. It said: “My last bed creaked everytime I moved. This one is quiet as. All ready for the winter activities. Not that they ever come.”
Now if you don’t know what winter activities are, go ask your parents. If your birthday is between March and May you are the result of winter activities. I, according to the Baby2See conception calendar, am the result of autumn activities, as also is my older sister. I don’t want to think about this too much but I guess the sight of all those autumn leaves caused a special kind of magic for my parents.
I’m sure you’re all wondering what the status of my winter activities is. Well, you’ll all be pleased to know that I haven’t worked any winter magic for anyone. Apart from the fact that my faith precludes me from this seasonal saliciousness till I am legally wed, I also wonder if perhaps winter is a less exciting time for a chilly conjugation. I am certainly far from experienced in the art of special hugs, but I do know that often there is nudity involved. One of the activities this winter that I have been partaking in has been putting on more clothes, not taking them off. Last weekend I went to Gemma and Jemma’s night time dance party in the bush* and I two pairs of socks, some long johns, jeans, a singlet, t-shirt, two hoodies, a warm coat, and a beanie. I had a very good time dancing with all those clothes on. I cannot think why, in such weather, anyone would want to dance with no clothes on**.
As an aside, what I also thought about at the party, was that this was probably the most covered up dance floor outside of Saudi Arabia. There wasn’t a hint of cleavage for miles. The most revealing thing I saw all night was someones bum chin. It was just poking out the top of their scarf like a little bit of facial plumber’s crack. If ever we mount a campaign to have people wear more clothes when they go clubbing we could just move all the clubs to the bush in the Blue Mountains. It’s a perfect plan.
Now, while I suggest that getting undressed in winter seems counter-intuitive to me, it does illustrate that something that I’m sure we’ve all suspected. People are willing to risk being cold for that sake of getting to know a special friend. What is also the case, as I’m sure you all know from your survival training, when lost in the bush in the cold the best way to conserve heat is to get naked, into a sleeping bag with another person.
I’m not sure if that’s actually true, but it’s pretty much the only bit of survival knowledge I have cared to remember. It’s also the reason why I spent most of my teenage years trying to think of reasons I might have to go bush walking with good looking girls. It’s probably the same reason why I generally avoided going bush walking with hairy, fat men.
So now that I consider it more, it seems to me that winter activities, while seemingly unappealing on the surface of the matter, are actually the result of people doing bush survival training. People will sacrifice comfort for emergency preparedness. Chances are most of the babies born in March to May are probably the result of their parents getting lost while out hiking together. I guess we should celebrate these babies as a testament to the human spirit’s rugged will to survive.
So there you go. I have blogged about winter activities. And now that I’ve done that, I’m get to organising a hike for this weekend. I’ve suddenly been inspired.
*I know I’ve been using quite a lot of euphemisms in this post, but this was actually a dance party in the bush. If you thought anything else, you’ve got a dirty mind.
**That was a euphemism.
Photo by: Mercre
This is post is part of the Blogging by Request series. To make your suggestion of what I should blog about, go here.
I don’t remember any autumn leaves.
Oscar is the result of Autumn activities, I don’t remember leaves either.
It seems I was the result of some Summer Loving between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. That’s probably too much information. Even for me.
Nothing else to do on those lazy summer days.