Where do I apply for olympic try-outs?
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Never too old
I have always loved the water and considered myself a really good swimmer. There was just one thing lacking - the crawl (freestyle). When I learned to swim in Germany, that stroke was not taught and over the years I've tried to teach myself. I am fortunate to report that I didn't drown trying. Never could get the breathing down. So when I saw a sign at my pool that said: "Do you want to perfect a stroke or refresh your skills?", I jumped at the opportunity. The very young man teaching the class is a saint. His face remained kind and interested when I approached him the first day of class. You see, he had seen me in the arthritis pool, but his demeanor betrayed no skepticism. First, I wanted to show him my two perfect strokes - the back stroke and the breast stroke. I needed to establish right away that he was not dealing with a novice. "Very nice!" he said and proceeded to gently point out some major errors. Heartbroken, I'm 65, you know, I proceeded to relearn those strokes until the saint was satisfied. Then came the BIG day. "Ready to learn the crawl?" the saint asked yesterday. With my heart beating wildly, I whispered, "Not sure." But the acoustics being what they are in a big pool, he understood "Yes, of course I am!!" So, long story short, I learned that elusive stroke yesterday, with breathing! So on Thursday, I'll dazzle the young swimming saint with absolute perfection. I can see it now. The crowd roaring, "There she goes! She has beaten her own time!"
Sunday, May 24, 2009
The last photo
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Hardest decision ever
Schnauzi - August 15, 1995 - May 23, 2009
For 14 years, my Schnauzi (miniature Schnauzer) has been my companion, dearest friend, my baby. Today Schnauzi will take her last breath. She hasn't eaten in five days, her kidneys and liver aren't functioning well, and her little system is shutting down. This has been going on for several weeks, and although she doesn't seem to be in pain, the vet said that she is in a deep malaise. She still purrs like a cat when I'm holding her, and she tries to be close to me at all times. They say one can't prepare for the inevitable. It is true. I have known for a while now that I have to let her go, but that doesn't mean anything today. At 3 pm today my husband is going to put her in my lap, and we are going to a very caring vet. When we come back home, she'll be buried under the little pear tree, and I'll plant a young lavender delphinium. My tears haven't stopped since yesterday. My heart is breaking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)