WINTERS seem colder as people grow older, so I’m glad I no longer have nipples, as this week they would be raw and sore.
My chest pegs turned yellow and fell off quite suddenly when I reached 40. All three of them. Apparently, this is quite paranormal during Hallowe’en and they do grow back each summer although they seem increasingly tender every season, which renders jogging while wearing a string vest a virtual impossibility except within the confines of a computer game.
Temperatures have plunged in recent days, giving everyone in Driffield something to moan about. At least 10 people have said to me: “Ooooh, nights are drawing in”, as if I hadn’t noticed and to which I replied each time: “I look forward to the time when they draw out once more.”
Granted, it does get dark earlier at this time of year, but only because the Government has been pratting about with the clocks. If they didn’t it would still be light at 4am and Nyctophobia would no longer be a problem for bed wetting adults under the mental age of six. Nyctophobia, or an abnormal fear of darkness, is a big problem in winter. Horror films seem more horrific, as do Sepulchral women. Sepulchral by the way is anything pertaining to burial – ie women without make up who look as though they have arisen from the dead or a housing estate in Hull.
A woman knocked on my door the other day and she was so scary I tried to give her some confectionery as I thought she was an early trick or treater. Turned she was collecting for charity. RSPCZ – Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Zombies.
She went berserk which is an old Norse word for crazy or deranged (that’s when someone has their arms and head in the wrong order). She faded away at the mention of sphagnum moss, an under-used defence against the dark arts – necessary as the Government has been pratting around with the clock and because winter is the devil’s season. I never understood why they call the devil the Prince of Darkness as he comes from burning hell, where the flames surely cast off quite a bit of light.
Winter prompts the use of a few marvellous words not uttered at other times of the year, such as Hallowe’en, which just wouldn’t work in August. And Thanatopsis, an ace word which comes from the Greek thantos meaning “death” and -opsis meaning “a view.” So, a thanatopsis is a written contemplation of death, often in the form of a poem. I saw you alive and now you’re dead, all that blood – did you bang your head?
Perdition is another good winter word. It is the state of final spiritual ruin where the wicked are condemned to eternal damnation. In other words, it’s a way scarier word for hell or for clothes shopping with the wife. The term is derived from the Latin perdere meaning “to lose” or “to ruin.” - ie, she has nicked my credit card again.
Waiting for the financial excesses of Christmas to pass is a time of Trepidation - the experience of fear or alarm that often results in trembling or quivering. Remember that the next time you look down at the doormat and see your gas or electricity bill staring up at you like a rabid Lycanthrope (which most people think is the posh name for a werewolf but is actually an alien spirit in the physical form of a wolf) Incidentally, there is a psychiatric condition called lycanthropy, in which a person believes that he or she is a wolf. I used to go out with one. She was way hairy where it didn’t matter. - Nafferton.
Continuing along this seasonal theme, I discovered this week that when it comes to good and evil, seven truly is the magic number. There are seven archangels, seven key names for the devil and, oddly, seven different types of ghost.
The first kind of ghosts are sad ones or wispy ones, who are working out some pre death unfinished business. They were probably accountants or estate agents.
The second kind are ghosts who might have been so material minded in their earthly life that they can’t detatch themselves from their possessions. For example, women with large collections of make up or shoes.
The third type of ghost are those which don’t yet realise they’re dead. So obviously, councillors any anyone in Government.
The fourth type of ghost are those the malicious and deceptive spirits, most likely from hell. The type you get when you mess around with a Ouija board or eat flies in the mistaken belief they are currants.
Type five ghosts are bright, happy spirits of dead friend and family who tell you via psychics and clairvoyants things they dare not say when they were alive. Such as “You were a crap cook” or “I had an affair with your dog”.
Ghost type number six might be a form of time/space instant replay. Spirits going round and round in a revolving door, like the one at The Bell Hotel.
And finally, some “apparent” ghosts might simply be astral projections of living people. So the next time you are in bed with the neighbour and his cleaner and your wife walks in, don’t worry. It’s just an apparition.