Loving Winter

The inevitable question: If squirrels hide nuts for the winter, what do pussies store? Tuna fish? Shrimp cocktail? Steak au jus? One can only wonder.

Winter in the northern hemisphere is about staying warm, because cold really happens here. In Australia winter is a kind of limp-wristed summer, a season merely without as much sun, like it's (the sun) gone on vacation for a while and left just the pilot-light burning. Sure the days are shorter and people wear more layers, but it's not 'winter' in the same way that Minnesota has winter. Or Manitoba. They're from the same animal family, but many, many cousins removed.

Open fires and dead animals are a staple of winter, and not just the cooking of. In my top one-hundred list of things to do before I leave this piece of space-time is #76:

"Make Love to the One I Love on Animal Rug in Front of Open Fire."

There it is, right there, below #75:

"Spend Week in Bed with Miss Venezuela (any year will do)".

It's another of those nagging cliché-type thingies, yet still keeps its exoticness. Exoticity? It looks to be a neat thing to do.

Sophisticated people move past making love on dead animals early in life. I think they complete all the standard sexual fetishes and variations before leaving university, which explains a lot about universities. And because I attended universities, but didn't graduate, it explains why I still need to find a woman, a fire, a dead-animal rug, and the time.

This winter, I swear.



Photo from here. [Link]