Summer in The City Pool

Summer is on its way. Who knows how long it will last, but beginning today, we will have a week of hot weather. Hot for us is different than hot in the rest of the country. Hot here is in the high eighties. That is toooooo hot for me. I prefer the low to mid seventies. At the present time it is sixty-nine degrees, and it is only 10:30 a.m. That is the warmest it has been in weeks.

I know it might sound like I'm complaining, but I'm not--not really--well, sort of. I'm merely stating the facts. Funny thing is I grew up in 100 degree summers and thought nothing of it. My brothers, sister and I would walk and run the couple miles to the city pool and spend the afternoon playing in the water. We had a family pass--30 swims for $1.00. What a deal.

I so clearly remember climbing the front steps of the building, walking up to the check-in counter and being assaulted by the eye-burning, nose stinging chlorine that hung out in there. After the four of us had found our pass in the card file on the counter, had it punched, and received a couple wire baskets for our clothes, my brothers went off to the right and my sister and I went to the left.

Locker rooms here we come! It didn't take much to change into our bathing suits because we wore them under our clothes. Into the basket went our shirts, shorts, and shoes. Then back to the check-out counter went the baskets (remember the basket number, kids). Back into the locker room we scurried, through the cold shower, and outside onto the burning-hot pavement, blinding sun, and a pool filled with yelling, splashing kids, and the slight aroma of chlorine.

We waded into the water from the baby end of the pool, ducked under the floats dividing shallow from deep, then down we went--into the depths of the sea to swim with sharks and mermaids, search for treasures, and keep an eye out for pirates. Oh the joys of summer in the city pool.

Where did all that go. How do some of us lose that joy and sense of adventure as we get older? My grown sons still love to play. Whether running barefoot in a smattering of snow, inventing games to play in the yard, or dancing around the living room, they and their kids have fun.

Where did I lose all that? I don't know, but I want to find it. Part of me says I never had it, but after writing about summers at the pool I realize it was there. I did play way back then.

I need to play again. Just the other day my doctor asked what I was doing for fun. I didn't have an answer. I guess I had better find a positive one. So I'm wondering if finishing the weeding in my front flowerbed can be fun. I could challenge myself to throw the weeds into the wheelbarrow from five feet away instead of flinging them onto the grass. Two points per weed--three points for an over-the-shoulder shot, and four points for making it with my eye closed. If I get 100 points within the hour, I will treat my self with...well, with something.

 On second thought, all that sounds like too much work. I will just go out there, pull the weeds, throw them onto the grass, pick them up later, and treat myself with...well, something. How about a glass of iced tea. I'd better make some.

My grand-kids love driving the mower. They think it is great fun. That must be what I do for enjoyment.

Going out to play in the yard, but making some sun tea first,
Jan