We started off our morning with a quick breakfast and swim lessons. It was Parents Day at the pool. This means that parents get in the water with the kiddies for the duration of the lesson.
I didn’t mind so much, the water here is warm and I love to swim, but I haven’t bought a bathing suit since the last time I went through this horrifying process. Perhaps you remember that I swore I’d never wear a two-piece again. Well, I had no choice this time.
This set is black. The bottoms are modest. They are boy cut. The only problem is, they exaggerate, ahem, certain problem areas and make my legs look like two jalapeno peppers. You know, wide at the top. Narrow at the bottom. The top is less modest. It is a regular bikini top (i.e. two cups not one wide swath of fabric that would provide maximum coverage), and with a little stuffing at the bottom to make an A ½ cup (by this I mean almost a B. I’m such a freak of nature) look closer to C. Factor in the weight gain of 5 or 6 pounds and voila: minor spillage. Thanks go out to Mark for pointing it out to me.
It would have been fine, unnoticeable by anyone but my husband (and perhaps anyone leering on the poolside). An incident arose when we were playing a game with buckets of water. It’s a race. We all had to run to our bucket, and pour it on ourselves once we get there. When I did this my bathing top nearly separated from my body. Oops.
I didn’t mean to flash you sir, or your four year old daughter!
After swimming I went to a church down the street for their annual Christmas bazaar. I never go there expecting to find anything. The parishioners of this church are elderly folks. Every year it looks like they clean out their closets and donate everything to this annual sale. There are many many knick-knacks that are not to my liking. There are many many books that aren’t either, but this doesn’t stop me from going. I go because I have hope. I have hope that one of the elderly parishioners (bless their hearts) passed away and perhaps, perhaps (!) the contents of their home would appear at the sale.
Is this heartless? Maybe so. But everyone has to die at some time. Why not raise money for the church while they’re at it?
The goods are divided between two rooms. One is mostly books and the other is all the other stuff. I found some good books, including some old Dr. Seuss, an early catholic-school reader called “Fun with John and Jean” – sealed with ecclesiastical approval, Toronto, Canada December 15th 1952.
I walked away with one awesome purchase. I couldn’t believe when I spotted the dusty old box. It was the exact same edition as the one I used to play as a kid. Who, in their right mind, would give it up for a mere 25 cents? I checked. It contained all the pieces. I even tried the patented pop-o-matic. Ca-click. It sounded the same. This was the object of my desire.
I felt a little pang of pleasure as I walked away with it. Yay for me!
On the agenda today: a television interview regarding a book I contributed to last year. Wish me luck, because knowing me, anything can happen.
p.s. Halloween was great. Details to come, as well as some cool photos. In the meantime, head over to Dotmoms to read about our Halloween family history. :)
