In Wilderness

It is a relatively well-guarded secret among people over a certain age that, how shall I phrase this, forestation of the body parts becomes more diverse and profuse in its covering of the landscape.

Rarely spoken of in mixed company, it is a subject that may arise in single-sexed gatherings where young members of said sex may be grossed out beyond what they deem acceptable. Which is really saying something considering the capacity for gross many of the young people of my acqaintance are gifted with.

The merest mention that some shaving or epilation of areas other than the legs or armpits may be required before venturing to the swimming pool is met with unguarded disgust of the,’Euch! Yeuch!’ variety.

It is then a matter of personal taste and decorum as to whether you choose to enlighten them further and reveal the awful truth that they too will, one day, feel the necessity to venture where no imagination once would have gone in the carefree innocence of the controlled garden of youth.

I have been known myself, in the past, to laugh uproariously at comedians who dare the subject and profess that God’s sense of humour in removing hair from the head only to let it sprout like a well-composted hedge elsewhere is perverse, to say the least.

Apparently, trimming hair from ears and nasal cavities becomes part of the routine of the daily male shaver even while the head may only require lubricating with some baby oil to maintain optimum sheen.

Should hair be remaining on the head, it has been noted that back hair, previously of scattered proportions, has somehow decided to go walkabout and venture north and south in an effort to join up with annexed portions that were mushrooming in lonely isolation.

In efforts to ensure that no area remains uncovered, apart from the head, triffid-like sprouts appear where no follicles were thought to exist, thus maximising the body’s endeavours to return to the ape-like state.

Evolution in reverse?

Difficult to say. Especially when laughing at the owners of said phenomenon who gallantly bring these unknown facts to the wide-eyed and innocent.

I was once such a wide-eyed.

Fortunately, for we of the gentler sex, increased forestation does not appear to make any ingress in the back regions, in awkward orifices, nor does the challenge of follicle diminshment occur on the pate, necessitating more face to wash.

Rather, swimsuits become something more of a challenge and the skirted variety begin to hold some attraction. Not being born in the nineteenth century I refuse to go that route. Perhaps that’s why they did. Who knows?

My own sense of modesty dictates that I keep the trees in the forest and the forest in the woods and the green grass grew all around, around, around…I digress…

Yes, a most uncomfortable subject.

Not half as uncomfortable, mind you, as getting down low and daring with an epilator.

Eyes watering?

My kids’ were when I had to explain why mama can’t go swimming immediately, she was expecting a visit from the axeman.

For anyone under the age of forty – I think that may be around the magic growth-spurt age – this post is merely about gardening.

Anyone older, don’t lie!

In wilderness, you’ll find me with a lady,

Epi, known by name, a friend indeed,

Shares with me some very close encounters,

She visits just as often as I need.

Neglect she can’t abhor, then she is vicious,

Abrupt and fairly sharp in her ingress,

Reminds me not to take for granted friendship,

Lets me wear my very shortest dress,

Gives me grief when growth is not what’s needed,

Tackles all I throw at her and more,

In wilderness, she is a friend for lifelong,

But, fuckaduck, her lessons are so sore.

 

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47 thoughts on “In Wilderness”

  1. I’m just shy passed 40. Haha. Okay I don’t lie. I d say it is a conversation us Quebebois are pretty open to talk about in French. The thing is when older women talked about it we thought it started at 80!!! Not so. Your post made me laugh at loud!! I may have wakened the neighbors but I laugh in English. So maybe not:D. ❤

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    1. Apparently by 80 it’s all disappeared! Except on the head.
      You saying you laugh in English makes me think of first realising that pets ‘speak’ different languages. I’d never given I a thought before till someone mentioned that, of course, commands given in French wouldn’t be understood by a dog raised by English speakers and vice versa. Is your cat bi-lingual or do you stick to the one language when communicating with her?

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      1. haha, you are funny! I speak English to my Bette but her former owner of 3 years spoke only French and he named her Trésor. When I refer to French, I mean we are generally (in Canada anyway) much more open about many things. French Québec shows for example are edited for censorship in English. I think the UK is much more open if I compare to lots of movies and tele series.

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      2. I think you might be right about the UK re openness on TV. Shocks the blazes out of me sometimes! I was surprised when I learned that we were possibly more liberal than the US when it came to TV, considering the movie culture there. I don’t know how true it is but interesting that you can watch something in French but not in English in the same country. I bet Bette understands both. 🙂

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      3. Actually I watched so many police series from UK and I was sitting on the edge of my seat all the way. I love British tele…much better than Canadian or American…Québecois,I would say ranks pretty close to UK. Yes, it is raw but it is also realistic rather than making it all pretty tied with a bow.

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      4. I read before that some movies made had different endings depending on where they were being screened. Folks in the US liked a happy ending while we were prepared to put up with the possible reality of misery! I don’t know how true that is except I watched The Butterfly Effect and really enjoyed it although the ending was incredibly sad. The second time I watched it the ending was different, all ‘pretty tied up with a bow’ and it ruined the film for me, didn’t make any sense to the rest of the story. I was all wtf! that’s not what happened – like Kathy Bates in Misery – stop changing the endings, Mr Man!

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      5. haha, I may have said this before but I find that Scotland is one place any Québecois would truly feel at home …and I don’t mean because of the separatist movement…but the way we eat, dance, enjoy life and are friendly. That is how I found everyone there…so warm and welcoming.

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      6. It’s just the weather that lets us down. Badly this year as it happens. It’s pissed almost solid for seven weeks of the holidays with a few random teasing days. I’m not talking to god any more and I’m not too chuffed with the weatherman either. Just as well I like dancing. 🙂

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      7. Yep, we as well…it rains at least 5 days out of 7…My son (teacher like you) is very perturbed with the weather …having hoped to hike, mountain bike and bike long distances but (sigh) he managed to go fishing now and then.

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      8. Ah yes you start so early. My son starts in two weeks. Actually he’s on contract now since he left his high school position. He does not know until Next week what he had it what school

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      9. I go back to my base school tomorrow and will probably be there for a couple of months covering a mat leave. Or I might go in tomorrow and find I’m sent elsewhere! Fun and games when head office are still crunching numbers. Keeps it interesting, I guess. Hope your son gets somewhere he likes.

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  2. Too fucking funny! I dated a guy for some time before I realized he had a forest of his own. We went swimming at a friend of his, and when he came out in his swim trunks, I just sat and stared. The people were talking to me, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from this guy’s back. It was so damn hairy! Needlesstosay, and thus I will say it, we broke up shortly thereafter.
    Now, I am going to get my head shaved so I don’t just have globs of hair coming out on my pillow, so I will let you know if, for women, the shaving of the head encourages hair growth in other regions. Well…I am also starting the menopause journey as well, so who the hell knows what is going to happen with my hair.
    Peace & Love
    Rene

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    1. Oh, I forgot about the hair, Rene! My brother shaved all his off when he was undergoing treatment but he didn’t have all that much to worry about. It did grow back though. All your long locks. I’m vexed for you. But I’m sure before you know it you’ll be back on your feet.
      And don’t sweat the menopause. I hit it last year, lost about two stone in weight and not a sweat in sight. Libido went through the roof right enough! It’s obviously not the same for everyone or all the scare stories that abound. Hopefully, you’ll come out of this a new woman and I’ll see you yet in Glasgow. Peace and love to you too and to your crew.x

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  3. I would like to unreservedly apologise to anyone that I offended with my earlier comment.
    Mommus was being very brilliant as usual to give a ladies view to an age old (literally), problem in a very nice way.
    I, with my comment, made a statement that should have been left to life’s experiences in my mind and not spread for all to see.
    So to any that felt offended or hurt in any way, my total apologies. Mark

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  4. And I’d like to say that not a single person was offended or said so, Mark. Not a one. No apology was necessary. I would not remove a comment unless agreed and it’s everyone’s right to have a do over. Done over by removing, Mark, at your behest. No sweat at all, at all. I know I’ve made comments I wish I hadn’t. Written posts I wish I hadn’t! I suppose that’s one thing about WP that irks a bit. I can’t count the times I’ve made a mistake (predictive text can be a swine) in comments on other people’s blogs and noticed it just as I pressed send or shortly afterwards. And no way to change or undo. We should have that option perhaps for the times when we go, ‘Oops!’ for whatever reason. All good, Mark. We’re only human after all.

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