We did not fill the pool but since I needed to swim and have zero ability to understand things like consequences, I made a brief plea to have a quick dip in the ocean, expecting everyone to shut me down. We already did all the yard work and cleanup from the winter this morning, finishing what I started a couple of weeks ago, mowed the grass, power-washed absolutely everything and omg I'm so hot and so tired, I just want a swim.
But Duncan offered to go down to the beach with me, while everyone else begged off and so off we went, mildly awkward at first and then comfortable as he said he's doing well he just had a moment and it's passed and next time it comes around he knows what to do.
At the bottom I realized it's twenty degrees and because I was working in the gardens I'm not dressed for swimming with my customary bikini under cut offs and a sweater. Fuck. I turn to go back up and he tells me it's fine. That if we're here I should swim anyway because he's not climbing up only to come back down. That what's the difference between undies and a swimsuit?
But like I said I have a tendency lately not to wear those either.
Oh. Well, I'll look away until you're in.
Fine by me.
So my first real swim of the year in two-degree water with a fine ice-surface or so it seemed was in my birthday suit and it felt GREAT.
And Duncan never looked the other way, not for even a second. I struggled to put on shorts and my sweater over wet skin and he watched and laughed and occasionally reached out to steady me. On the way back up he said he wish he knew who the bigger mess was, me or him, and I answered that it was me for sure, through chattering teeth.
He didn't argue with me though.
But Duncan offered to go down to the beach with me, while everyone else begged off and so off we went, mildly awkward at first and then comfortable as he said he's doing well he just had a moment and it's passed and next time it comes around he knows what to do.
At the bottom I realized it's twenty degrees and because I was working in the gardens I'm not dressed for swimming with my customary bikini under cut offs and a sweater. Fuck. I turn to go back up and he tells me it's fine. That if we're here I should swim anyway because he's not climbing up only to come back down. That what's the difference between undies and a swimsuit?
But like I said I have a tendency lately not to wear those either.
Oh. Well, I'll look away until you're in.
Fine by me.
So my first real swim of the year in two-degree water with a fine ice-surface or so it seemed was in my birthday suit and it felt GREAT.
And Duncan never looked the other way, not for even a second. I struggled to put on shorts and my sweater over wet skin and he watched and laughed and occasionally reached out to steady me. On the way back up he said he wish he knew who the bigger mess was, me or him, and I answered that it was me for sure, through chattering teeth.
He didn't argue with me though.