The nice thing about blogging (among many others), is I can say what I want, when I want, and you, my reader, always has the choice about whether or not you want to read it. A win-win, in my book…
Today, still, resisting the Sunday vibe...
I get relaxed, call it day. Then I get hot. Blame it on sunburn. Blame it on hormones. Blame it on the weather (yeah, I think that one wins the prize!). Anyway, dinner is waiting, but I’m still too amped to eat, and, man, it’s hot.
I change back into my swimsuit (the Ozarks version, TBD [To Be Described] at a later date). I jump into the pool, pretend I’m swimming. And I remember something.
My love, love, love of water. I am fully convinced that, had I lived a previous life, or if I am to live a fantasy future live, it was and/or will be as a fish. Or a dolphin. Yes, that’s it: a chatty, always-happy-and-willing-to-perform-for-my-audience dolphin. I am saying this now, as a commitment/reminder to myself, so that I will remember to write, someday, about my affinity with water. (And, no surprise, I am an Aquarius.)
Ironic, since I currently live in the middle of a land-locked area of the Ozarks, sorta. I hear all the time about streams, and rivers, and “swimmin’ holes.” There is the Lake of the Ozarks, not too far north of here for a weekend getaway, and I almost moved once to the major chain of lakes south of here, known as Bull Shoals, where I couldn’t afford to live even if I won the lottery (but the Band was gonna make a fortune). And there was an idyllic summer spent on Delafield lake with a man I was in love with who later (long after the end of our relationship) committed suicide.
There will never be anything in the world as satisfying to me as a small lake, like the one outside my cabin where I went for a weeklong artist’s retreat in Rhinelander, or the one in my backyard during my childhood in Eagle, or the one during my teenage years, across the street from my house in Palmyra, or during my (earlier) adulthood, where I lived 2 or 3 blocks from the shore of Lake Michigan, and, especially, Crooked Lake, my favorite. All God-made and natural.
What amazes me, the subject that I want to explore, is how, in my poverty-stricken childhood (and beyond), I managed to find myself living on or near a lake, always. At least that’s how I remember it. I’m pretty sure my memory serves me right…with photos as proof.
And now, I settle for a pool, $14.00 from Wal-Mart, once a year, because that’s exactly how long it lasts. The ultimate in irony.
Any body of water, whatsoever. (Sometimes, I even sleep in my bathtub when I'm desperate to connect with water.)
Regardless, the water draws me in. Even my 6-foot, 18-inch-deep, plastic piece of paradise in my own backyard. A girl must dream. And it feels…PERFECT, every time. Because I let it.