Dear Diary – The temperature in the pool has been slowly climbing all week. Yesterday it was 92F. Some would say that’s too warm, but as someone who suffers with a chronic condition, it’s nice to be able to get wet quickly, and actually spend time enjoying floating in the pool. No more gasping, yipping and groaning as I tiptoe around the edge until I feel brave enough to slowly dunk my body like a doughnut in a cup of coffee.
Of course, there’s still a lot of gasping, yipping and groaning as I struggle into my bathing. Two years ago I visited the Little Shop of Horrors to purchase a one piece black bathing suit. I left that shop feeling slightly optimistic that I wouldn’t scar the children on the beach. I felt optimistic as I stood on the beach. Then I saw the photos. My inner babe passed out, and when she regained consciousness, immediately pulled on stretchy pants and retired to the couch with chips. Two years older with my covid body, I look like an albino hippo strapped into my suit.
We all have hourglass figures; your sand just settles in different places.
– Octavia Spencer
My bikini is not much better. I wore it the first time I went swimming here, appropriately covered by a t-shirt. Which wasn’t so bad until it was time to get out. My ability to dress myself has been hindered of late by a frozen shoulder. Combine that with a wet t-shirt that sticks to your skin and rolls, and pretty soon I was an albino hippo trapped in a orange snare. My mother had to set me free.
Yesterday something didn’t feel right in my one-piece suit. One of the “chest” pads was all mushed up weird, giving my curves some radical angles. And the pads were enclosed in Lycra so there was no quick fix. It required a series of yoga poses to sort it out, in the pool where I could be comfortable and discreet, but I felt like I should have bought myself a drink first.
Floating in the pool is very relaxing, watching the clouds and listening to the birds . The other evening, 3 gold finches perched in a nearby tree and serenaded us. Actually it sounded more like sarcasm and heckling, but I don’t speak finch. Shortly after that, a squirrel sneaked by us, averting his eyes.
Tomorrow I’m going shopping for new pool noodles. My noodle disintegrated into several pieces, leaving little green foam confetti floating in the pool. Good news! As a kid, I could never float. I’d immediately sink the bottom of the pool, and in order to pass my swimming lessons and get my badge, I had to hold my breath to hold myself up. My covid weight has eliminated that problem.
Dear Diary – I’m contemplating some sewing projects including Celtic quilting. We made one for my brother and his wife when they were married years ago. My Mom dug out her patterns and books. Unfortunately, at some point, everything got wet, maybe during the basement flood of 2019! It was mouldy, stuck together and stinky. We managed to salvage a few patterns outside to air out. It rained in the evening and by the time we remembered the patterns, they had been pounded to pulp.
Big Guy also provided me a large box of fabulous fabrics, and since most communities in my province are making masks in public mandatory, I’ve started producing masks to sell. There have been the usual challenges…I have ironed and sewn seams on the wrong side, have struggled to thread the needle, and stabbed myself with pins. My thumb has more holes in it than the pin cushion. The heat hasn’t helped. There are moments when even my fingers are sweating. And my frozen shoulder has made it impossible to put my long, frizzy hair up! Remember that scene in The Seven Year itch when Marilyn Monroe stands over the subway grate in her pretty white dress, and it blows up. Dad caught me standing in front of the fan, like Marilyn Monroe. I was too hot to be ashamed. I might have hugged the fan, but I was worried my hair would get caught in the fan and I couldn’t wait 3 weeks for a hair appointment.
I posted a pic of my fabric and one of my masks on Facebook, explaining that I was selling them for $5. I’ve sewn more than a dozen. As of last night, 16 friends liked my post. I guess if I don’t sell any, I’ll be a well-coordinated covid fashionista! Both of my bathing suits are black so I’ll always be coordinated on a beach!