Odd this blogging business. Stats, comments etc. They rise and fall like the sea. Granny never gets enormous amounts of hits - but why some days does she attract as much attention in an hour as she does in a day other times? The most recent example of that was after she'd headed one post 'Old Goats.' Did it have some esoteric sexual meaning? She googled 'Old Goats' to find out- and got no esoteric sex; just a joke, some science, a firm called Old Goats.com which makes screen doors, and so forth, and ditto, only .net instead of.com that appears totally bizarre and doesn't make it clear in any way what it is - very coy this site even when you get into it; Granny suspects has something to do with Satanism. (What do you think?) Which would explain not only its reticence, but possibly also her added hits. If those extra visitors were after Satanic rituals they did not get them. Heaven forfend. Certainly none of them commented. Oh the marvels of the internet.
Anyway; here's more old goat goings-on for anyone interested. Granny's adventures with her Wet Suit. Or wet suit. (See if that attracts new readers. Anyone for rubber?)
So why does she need a wet suit? She will tell you. Granny likes to swim. Or rather she doesn't much like to swim, what she likes is maintaining some degree of fitness, well-being, plus what's left of her figure, and given this, given that the only gym at all nearby is full of macho males heading to be ironmen therefore not, she thinks, for her, she swims. At the local sports' centre to which during the winter, come all the pro cyclists, boxers, etc , from all over Europe - she encounters them pounding up and down the pool, but not usually in the slow lane patronised by her; so that's all right. It's outdoor this pool; in such a climate that's alright too - more or less. It is even heated. But in the winter, for her, it is not heated enough. So in the months before Christmas, she decided to kit herself out. With a wet suit. Labelled small to medium. Um. But wet suits have to be tight. So that was alright. Wasn't it. Or wasn't it?
Winter came very slowly this year. Then she went away. Then she got sick. Then the weather got warm again. Etc: etc. It was only last week therefore that she decided that the wet suit was called for.
Oh dear. Like she said. It's meant to be tight. But she thinks she's supposed to be able to get it on. Well she did get it on; eventually. Hauled lower parts up over rather more medium than small thighs; difficult - very. Hauled even more laboriously over ditto sized bum. More than difficult. Hauled it far enough up for her to wriggle in one arm. Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. But that was the easy part. With one arm IN, trying to put it round to get the other arm IN remained more like other arm OUT for a long time while Granny hauled, wriggled, writhed, cursed, hauled again, wriggled some more, writhed some more, cursed a lot more. Even when she did manage to have both arms in - more or less - and hauled up more medium than small size upper arms, she then had to ZIP IT UP. Ouch. She doesn't think she'd have achieved it at all had she been possessed of two bumps in front rather than one. And even then it sagged down the back of her neck, and trying to do up the neck meant strangling herself. (That's another one for those in search of kinky sex sites perhaps; it should do wonders for her stats.) Also; she knows wet suits are meant to be tight otherwise they don't do their job, but aren't you supposed to be able to breathe in them?
And after all this she was meant to be able to swim?
Well; holding her breath all the way she drove down to the swimming pool. She took off her outer garments, hoping noone would notice the sight that appeared from underneath. Plunged into cold water. Which really was/felt less cold. That was the success part. Swimming wasn't. She struggled up one length with great difficulty. You need to move your arms to swim. Moving her pinioned arms was like swimming through well-set jam rather than water. The water meanwhile came all the way down her back because she hadn't done the neck up. This was not what it was supposed to do. She got cold. She was not supposed to get cold. Was she?
Anyway to cut a long and tedious story short - like her swim - she did get a swim; some of it; sort of. Then she climbed out. Next problem - guess what? - was to take wet suit OFF. One shoulder was easy. Two? Forget it. She put her clothes on over the wet suit, drove all the way home and waited, shivering, for Beloved. Taking it off with his help was a doddle; relatively speaking.
Her mistake? Buying a wet suit sometimes before Christmas, and thinking she'd still be able to get it on afterwards?
Or buying a wet suit at all? Possibly.
Or leaving Beloved at home in the first place? (Except he wasn't at home.)
One thing she knows for sure; she is not going to post a picture of herself wearing it.
She's now in London. She will do her healthy exercise in a heated pool where no wet suit is necessary. If she does enough of it, maybe she'll be able to get into wet suit - and out of it - more easily, back on her island. Or maybe she won't.