Shortest day yesterday and so the summer solstice is mercifully just around the corner; well not really but you have to look on the bright side, don't you? However my current concern is the winter branch of the Solstice family. It is bloody cold at the moment even in the North Island. And we are talking the proper North Island now and not silly places like Waiouru or Taihape which might as well be parked in Central Otago for the daft weather they go in for.
I live half an hour North of Auckland, the first wee step towards the 'winterless north', for a reason. I want, nay expect, an almost winterless existence. And I am currently being short changed. Off to the Trades Description wallah as soon as I finish in the fields. This current cold 'snap' has to be stopped. I mean golf was cancelled yesterday due to a frost delay. Our display of red hot pokers around the pond are a display of frost savaged sticks with nary a glimmer of redness to be seen anywhere. The bougainvillea outside the kitchen might survive but who can tell until about October. The avocado tree looks like it is going to go avocados up despite my religiously putting its frost cloth overcoat on at 1600 hours every afternoon. It is not good enough. Where's anthropogenic global warming when you need it? My arse. I'm just waiting for the band of tofu munching weird beards to explain this lot away as being due to my selection of motorised transport.
I sit in complete bewilderment at those who go into raptures over cold weather. 'Look at the glorious winter days we are getting' they purr. Idiots; it's bloody cold. At noon we get a 'glorious' winter's sunny day with the glass hitting 12 Celsius. That's not glorious its daft. At two in the afternoon the frost under the trees still hasn't got past the wet grass stage of evaporation. The sun sinks over the hill and the bloody ice crystals started getting up to flying speed about thirty seconds later. Glorious weather - crap. It is horrible.
But look at all the fun things you can do in the really cold weather. What for instance? Stay out of doors and die of hypothermia. More fun than a barrel of monkeys. Go for a bracing walk in the countryside. I live in the countryside and I even consider driving to the front gate to collect the paper at the moment. Chop wood for the fire. Well if there wasn't winter you wouldn't have to, would you? And Mr Novagas looks after me in that direction. Go ice skating. Presumably like on the Christmas cards with a striped scarf streaming out behind you as you glide effortlessly across a frozen pond - seconds before you fall through a thin bit to die. If you want to get to the other side of a pond walk round the edge as you would in summer. Go ice fishing. Now this is seriously stupid. Fishing is done aboard 43 foot game boats wearing shorts and tee shirts hunting down fish that can grow to half a ton not sitting on a camp stool dressed like the Michelin man hoping fish that are measured in beasts per pound can be coaxed through your hole in the ice. Oh, and you might die whilst doing this because sitting still for protracted periods in cold weather leads to you dying from hypothermia. I read it in a book. Go for a drive. More death - black ice and the such. That is if your car will start because it also hates the cold.
Skiing. Ah yes, skiing. The single most stupid way of spending time ever invented. You spend a shed load of cash to buy really expensive and awful looking clothes and other skiing paraphernalia. You then either fly somewhere at air fares double what they would be in February or kill yourself driving there 'cos the roads are death traps courtesy of ice - black or any other shade you care to mention. You arrive at your destination and get drunk. This appears to be mandatory. And you do this by drinking stuff you wouldn't clean the drains with; all awash with cloves (eh?) and the like. Wake up with a splitting head and repair to the piste (a different sort from last night). Pay more of the dwindling pile of cash to be dragged up to the top of a hill by piece of civil engineering imported from Switzerland that if it breaks will kill you. You then try to get to the bottom of the same hill on your skis/board/bum with out breaking any bones, getting wet, cold or sunburnt. It is not possible to reach your starting altitude without ticking at least three of the above boxes. Pay more money to get on the Swiss death trap one more time and repeat until it gets dark at about 1600 hours when you should be putting frost cloth on the avocados not messing about trying to kill yourself up a mountain. Then you go and get drunk again. Do this for as many days as your money lasts and go home to tell everyone what a wonderful time you had. Terrific.
I think I'll stay at home, indoors, spending my dosh on LPG and sticking matchsticks under my fingernails. Winter sucks big time and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
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