I used to work alongside a big, tough stonemason who was also a well-known stunt-bike sportsman.
One rainy day I discovered that he would rather get soaked to the skin with freezing rain than use an umbrella. He thought they were ridiculous and would never be seen beneath one.
I sort of understand how he feels. On the rare occasions that I use an umbrella, I always feel slightly embarrassed and hope I don't run into any real men friends. I have never seen a mountaineer using one, but then again I am not sure I would recognise them as such unless they were up a mountain.
It is a myth (as far as I am concerned) that the older you get, the less you care about what others may think about you. I find myself worrying about certain aspects of my outward appearance more and more, but that doesn't go for my hair-do. I become lazier with age too, and since I would not attract anyone using my appearance alone anymore, I cannot be arsed to keep my hair looking dry and tidy, and I don't spend any money on it.
Right. I'm off out into the freezing fog to do some unpaid work, and it is not voluntary. I am carving flowers onto the sides of a hard, sandstone urn. Flowers. Stone. Now I cannot decide if this is a manly activity or not.
Wednesday - Today was the day earmarked for Christmas Dinner at The Creamery in Hawes with friends P and D from Windermere. Some years ago the cheese factory in Hawes ...
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