Swim Suits!

I don't know if Marylyn Eyer wrote this or just forwarded it, but I love it! It's great to know I am not the only one with a bad attitude about swim suits! Thought you might enjoy it too.

"When I was a child in the 1960s, the bathing suit for the mature figure was boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much sewn as engineered. They were built to hold back and uplift and they did a good job. Today's stretch fabrics are designed for the prepubescent girl with a figure carved from a potato chip. The mature woman has a choice - she can either go up front to the maternity department and try on a floral suit with a skirt, coming away looking like a hippopotamus who escaped from Disney's Fantasia, or she can wander around every run-of-the- mill department store trying to make a sensible choice from what amounts to a designer range of florescent rubber bands. What choice did I have? I wandered around, made my sensible choice and entered the chamber of horrors known as the fitting room.

The first thing I noticed was the extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch material. The Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by NASA to launch small rockets from a slingshot, which give the added bonus that if you manage to actually lever yourself into one, you are protected from shark attacks, as any shark taking a swipe at your passing midriff would immediately sufferwhiplash. I fought my way into the bathing suit, but as I twanged the shoulder strap in place, I gasped in horror - my boobs had disappeared! Eventually, I found one boob cowering under my leftarmpit. It took a while to find the other. At last I located it flattened beside my seventh rib. The problem is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups. The mature woman is meant to wear her boobs spread across her chest like a speedbump. I realigned my speed bump and lurched toward the mirror to take a full view assessment.

The bathing suit fit all right, but unfortunately it only fit those bits of me willing to stay inside it.The rest of me oozed out rebelliously from top, bottom, and sides. I looked like a lump of play dough wearing undersized cling wrap. As I tried to work out where all those extra bits had come from, the prepubescent sales girl popped her head through the curtain, 'Oh, there you are,' she said, admiring the bathing suit. I replied that I wasn't so sure and asked what else she had to show me. I tried on a cream crinkled one that made me look like a lump of wadded up masking tape, and a floral two piece which gave the appearance of an oversized napkin in a serving ring. I struggled into a pair of leopard skin bathers with ragged frills and came out looking like Tarzan's Jane, pregnant with triplets and having a rough day. I tried on a black number with a midriff and looked like a jellyfish in mourning. I tried on a bright pink pair with such a high cut leg I thought I would have to wax my eyebrows to wear them. Finally, I found a suit that fit...a two-piece affair with a shorts style bottom and a loose blouse-type top. It was cheap, comfortable, and bulge-friendly, so I bought it. My ridiculous search had a successful outcome, I figured. When I got home, I found a label which read -- 'Material might become transparent in water.' So, if you happen to be on the beach or near any other body of water this year and I'm there too ... I'll be the one in cut off jeans and at-shirt!

You'd better be laughing or rolling on the floor by this time. Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain."

Thanks Marylyn. I can identify!

Frog Blog

For some reason, I love frogs! Imagine how fun it was to find this little guy trying to get out of our house. I had been in and out of the back yard a few times that day, and later when I walked by the door, I noticed him trying to get out. He must have hopped in when the door was open. We often hear frogs croaking at night in the spring, but I hadn't seen one til now. I gently picked him up in a paper towel and put him outside by the pond. Hopefully he made it back safe and sound to his family. I wish he'd come and visit us again!

I Survived My Dance Recital!

Notice the placement of our canes is completely uniform!!

The thrilling ending pose to dance #1.

Our darling tap teacher Liz. She makes me feel like a giant!

You've got to admit that many 50+ year-old women don't usually have to worry about being in a dance recital. My motivation in taking tap dance was to get exercise and have fun at the same time, NOT to end up on the stage. That's why I was a bit worried about making a fool of myself when it came time to put on the recital. At one point, I asked myself what in the world I thought I was doing! BUT, I'm happy to report that it actually was a fun experience, and no one broke into hysterical laughter during our dance routine. I pretty well remembered the steps, and my mistakes were minimal (at least they felt minimal to me.) We are now learning the ShimSham dance, and it is sooooo fun! Who knows, maybe I will end up on the stage and become rich and famous.........