By: Blonde Two
Will somebody please just take me to Dartmoor and leave me there? Do you ever have those days when it all just seems a little bit on the crap side? You know the ones – you feel as though you are in the wrong skin, that nothing you try to say is coming out right and that you are in in the wrong place at exactly the wrong time.
I am sure that at least half of you have shared this experience. I am also fairly sure that I have just caused the male half of our readership to flip websites to look at something a bit more macho and a lot less moany.
So hello girls, it is just us now and I can mention the period thing. Periods and walking are tricky companions – lets face it, periods and anything other than a hot water bottle and some chocolate are tricky companions. Most women menstruate in some kind of pattern with the moon – I am convinced that it is the act of packing a rucksack which triggers mine. This means that I have got rather adept at dealing with the not-so-niceties of on the move “sorting out”. I am not going to go into too much detail just in case some poor brave bloke has read on but I just wanted us to share a moment of sisterly appreciation for what can be a complete pain in the absolutely everything.
Walking with youngsters of the female variety does bring out some funny moments. I can remember clearly one “first trip out” walk when Blonde One and I had to stop at approximately every 200 metres to help out with some type of sanitary advice or provision. We were very late back to the bus and didn’t feel that we could explain why in any way that the blokes would appreciate. It was Blonde One’s turn to do the “talk” before our D of E expedition this weekend but the look on girls’ faces at the thought of “leaving nothing behind” can often be a picture. This weekend we had quite a lot of cavorting around with toilet rolls and hand gel – there is nothing discreet whatsoever about shouting “who’s got the loo roll”, whilst skipping into the bushes still wearing your high visibility vest.
So – grumpy Blonde Two and weekend of walking coming up. We can all guess what is going to happen – but it is ok, mother nature is in charge up on Dartmoor and she is a girl too!
Shall we tell the boys it is safe to come back now?
Its the PMT that we are sacred of! Can we stop creeping around now he asks nervously!?
Be afraid, be very afraid!
I mean scared
Oohh, don’t forget there are very manly “modern men” out here!
Certainly don’t overlook the fact that men suffer more from PMT than women do. That is scientifically a fact and one that women will never understand.
🙂 Carlos
I have my own theories on men and PMT but would be interested to see some “scientific” evidence of this “fact”. 😉
I hope the boys have read on!!! They already have the luxury of a built in hosepipe for discrete wee’s or peeing into a jar (who carries a jar???) in the middle of the night, rather than attempting to be discrete and flashing their pearly white behinds to the world!!! So to understand the other “joys” of being female and the added “complications” this can bring to a long hike/wild camp would prove most educational and then they may realise that bearing the brunt of our PMT is maybe the easy option!!!!!! (Although hubby might disagree after I nearly (I said nearly!!!!) attacked him with a frying pan many years ago!!!!)
I’m not so bad now – walking is a great reliever of stress in whatever form!!!
Remind me to send you a copy of “The Blue Day Book” by Bradley Trevor Greive.
And Carlos, you ain’t felt nothing yet!
Sounds intriguing!