And there were no mosquitos! Amazing.

I'm not a traditional girl in some senses, but I do love some traditions. Like always eating cake for breakfast, if there's cake in the house. Like during spring time gather in front of a fire built up of the autumns tree leftovers and watch it burn down. Like watching fireworks on new years eve and feel the pleasure of not dealing with the explosives yourself. Like spending christmas with my family and the chaos it brings. Like having all my friends over for my birthday party and then getting silly pretending that the sound of bubble wrap popping is in fact the sound of a fireplace crackling.

Another favourite tradition has to be this very weekend (oh, getting mighty personal about local traditions, here). You see, around this time, or on a specifically picked out date most often ending up on fridays, hordes of people embark on a 1000+ year old tradition and migrate out into little cottages by streams or lakes in order to during two days pretend that they actually don't have running water or electricity and are in fact allowed to pee in the great outdoors. Well, a thousand years ago they didn't have to pretend they didn't have running water or electricity, but this does not dampen the fact that we all feel very authentic while doing it. This holiday's roots comes, very simply put, from celebration of the longest day of the year. It's "dark" for about two hours this night, and during those two hours there's a hectic rumaging through the forests trying to find a closed off spot to get some ass, skinny dipping while pretending that you can't see eachother because it's not dark at all, sleep with flowers in your face to predict the future and of course, eat just enough food to get that medieval style hard liquor down your throat because it tastes like all your old mistakes just came back and collected themselves in a drink that undoubtedly will make you do another one or two. At least if you're lucky, no one took a photo of you doing it.

I believe that this tradition is so very popular in this part of the world, unlike you know.. easter, because this is traditionally (and I mean that in the most literal of senses) not about Jesus, but about getting drunk in the light summer nights, having sex outside and picking flowers. And maybe sacrificing a goat or two. The church has apparently tried to get this very weekend into the celebration of some saint being born, but I assume that you can only find that out by googling it, like I did. The heathen is strong in these ones. *stretches arms out to embrace her fellow "sinners"*

As dark as it gets. 

AND, we all get the day off to do it. Yeah okay we don't actually get time off to perform the sacrificial rituals surrounding the humans need to put their hands on other lifeforms, but to completely dedicate yourself to the whole idea that getting drunk and peeing in the woods is what you're supposed to do. But then again, when I accidentally elbowed my friend in the face so he bled all over the place and then instantly followed that up by spilling an entire can of freshly opened beer, I believe I've done my bit for the gods. And they say water's always been sacred, so we naturally covered that by taking a 4 AM swim in order to wash the blood off of us. Holy swimaroodle, it was awesome. Top Notch whose blood I spilled, and Foureyes who was just there laughing until she cried, I will assume that you're covered by this sacrifice and for that, all I have to say is:


You're welcome.

May your year be fruitful and bring you lots of cattle and crops.