This afternoon I was sorely tempted to snap a sneaky photo of a strange, semi-naked man.  It’s not because I’m a bit pervy (although I’m not denying my pervy streak; it just wasn’t an issue today), but because this fella was such a weirdo that I wanted to capture of permanent record of him.

Tui and I were having our daily beach walk at 3ish (our walking schedule is ruled by the tides, like we’re crazed hippies or something) and it was so flipping cold.  I was all kitted out in jeans, gumboots, a thermal top, a woollen jumper, a thick hoodie, my Barbour, a scarf and gloves, but I was still muttering darkly about the need for a certain little black labradinger of my acquaintance to learn how to look both ways in order to cross the road safely and take herself to the beach in the future.  It was so cold that Tui, a dog who has virtually broken ice on a pond before to go for a swim, leapt into the sea and promptly scuttled out again, looking slightly alarmed.

The sun was shining and the beach was almost empty, but it wasn’t a fun walk with the southernly wind just about stripping the skin off my face.  And just when I didn’t think I could feel any colder, this chap appeared out of nowhere and sprinted for the surf.  The  crazy mofo was going for a swim.  To be fair, he didn’t stay in very long, but he did stick around for a few minutes after getting out of the water, rinsing off under an open-air shower.  My body temperature plummeted just looking at him.  That guy’s cross-species kindred spirit is probably this awesome Christchurch dog, wriggling around in the snow:

Unlike that crazy guy and that nutcase of a dog, Tui and I are over this cold weather.  When we got back from the walk we sat in the car for an extra 15 minutes, listening to the radio and enjoying the blissful warmth of the Ford heating system.  Tui’s been glued to our oil column heater all day and I’m intending to put on most of my clothes before going to bed tonight.  I might even fire up two hot water bottles and really go for it – Tristan’s stuck in Wellington because snow caused flight cancellations, and he’s usually a great source of heat in the bed, so without him I’m going to have to resort to desperate measures if I’m not have any hope of resisting frostbite.

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4 thoughts on “Hardcore

  1. “The crazy mofo was going for a swim.” Hahaha you make me laugh. What a nutbar that guy must be though, swimming in this weather! It’s so cold at night, I’m dreading Andrew’s night shifts later this week when I’ll be sleeping alone and waking up cos I’m too cold. Maybe you should let a certain little labradinger in to bed with you – she’d be warm to cuddle.

    1. It’s quite tempting – she is very snuggly – but I just can’t do it: too much fur. And the one time that we did let her sleep on our bed (when we were away at a dog-friendly hotel), we didn’t have a restful night. She’s so wriggly! And she woke me up at 6 am by looming over me, breathing her doggy morning breath right into my face.

  2. I feel your pain vis a vis the cold. I do sympathise. It was 15 degrees in our house this morning and when I left to travel the five steps into my office, it was 21 degrees in there after having the central heating on. I get very very cranky when I am cold and now into our 16th year with centrally heated houses, I am a very happy old duck. And this is global warming. It is New Zealand but not as we know it.

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