Friday, 12 October 2012

Brass Monkeys

19:07:00 Posted by Lindsay 2 comments

Heating is officially ON. I don’t mind winter when it’s not raining. Stepping out into a cold morning does more for me than any Redbull or Relentless drink. You are suddenly aware of every exposed part of your skin. You’re also aware of the bits that are covered up, inadequately. And most definitely awake. Winter is the time of year I can feel my skin properly without it being red and peeling. I can feel the air inside my nostrils. My ears are suddenly drawn to my attention. Yes, we’re still here, on the side of your head. We’ve been here all year, and fancy sticking around actually. Unless someone puts the X Factor on.

It’s not so bad unless it starts to lose feeling. It’s a strange kind of numbness, and it’s painful. I don’t drive (yet) so standing at freezing cold bus stops is a staple for me. But I’m Scottish by birth so take it like the warm season it is in England. I don’t think I want to know how Scottish men kept their danglies warm in the coldest part of the UK in winter. Socks? But they had balls, hard ones (probably because they were encased in ice).

Like any season it has its good bits and bad bits. Numb bums from falling on the ice. Sledding in said ice with kiddies. Losing feeling in the fingers. The sheer gratitude and appreciation you feel when you enter your home when the heating is on.

I do feel for the old folk with no heating and the homeless at this time of year though. A temporary blast of cold for us is a whole season for them. As beautiful as winter can be it’s still a bit scary.


Ashley R Lister said...


Sorry I'm late replying to this.

I saw four Scotsmen in kilts yesterday morning as I drove to Ansdell. It was a windy morning and each clutched the hem of his own kilt like a promenade slapper on a Friday night wearing a mini.

It seems surreal to encounter the concepts of kilts twice in one day.

Great post,


Adele said...

I love wearing kilts. You can tell a Scotman's clan by his kilt. If you find a quarter pounder underneath - then he's probably a MacDonald!

Oh and Ashley. The kilt pin stops it blowing up when you are caught by a chill breeze in the Trossachs.