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Lake and Pride.
Last Saturday I took a dip in the lake with my clothes on.
We were on our uncle's summer cottage, which is by this tiny little lake, and everyone else went swimming. Now my sister and me got to thinking that neither of us had tried swimming with clothes on, ever, despite of having been live action role playing for years and backpack traveling around Europe. So we decided to see what it's like. She was wearing underwear, leggings/trousers and a cotton long-sleeved t-shirt, I had underpants, a pair of 3/4 length cargo pants a white (button-down) shirt. We decided not to wear shoes this time.
Swimming was surprisingly laborous, and I noticed several things.
1. It's best to leave the shirt buttoned so the fabric won't gather up on your arms and weigh them down.
2. Even light clothing will disturb because you're used to swimming without, and it takes a lot more concentrating just to ignore the feel of the wet fabric.
3. Floating is very hard. I've never been very good at it (my sister's a champion floater) and with the clothes hanging on me I just couldn't do it. Must be the shift of balance.
We swum across the lake but had to turn back just before the other shore, because a furious Lesser Black-backed Gull was protecting its nest and offspring (a stupid place for a nest, really; all exposed on a rock) so vigorously that even though we obviously had no intention of disturbing the nest and were aiming for a spot some 30 metres away from it, the bird decided we were too close and attacked us a couple of times. Still, the whole experiment was interesting. Now we can finally start our training as secret agents, my sister and me.
Something else on Saturday? Oh, yes, Helsinki Pride '11.Tons of people, missing a lot of friends and acquaintances mostly because I had to leave nearly immediately after the parade, but marching was important. It was sizzzling hot, too, and at some point I removed my rainbow-coloured hoodie and went on shirtless, for the first time since mastectomy. I figured that Pride was a good opportunity for that first time, and it felt so damn good. What surprised me, though, was that walking back from the park (the area of festivities and the ending point of the parade) with my primary (who was dressed up so prettily!) shirtless felt even better. There I was, walking among strangers, and I was being myself, and I could show it to the world.
We were on our uncle's summer cottage, which is by this tiny little lake, and everyone else went swimming. Now my sister and me got to thinking that neither of us had tried swimming with clothes on, ever, despite of having been live action role playing for years and backpack traveling around Europe. So we decided to see what it's like. She was wearing underwear, leggings/trousers and a cotton long-sleeved t-shirt, I had underpants, a pair of 3/4 length cargo pants a white (button-down) shirt. We decided not to wear shoes this time.
Swimming was surprisingly laborous, and I noticed several things.
1. It's best to leave the shirt buttoned so the fabric won't gather up on your arms and weigh them down.
2. Even light clothing will disturb because you're used to swimming without, and it takes a lot more concentrating just to ignore the feel of the wet fabric.
3. Floating is very hard. I've never been very good at it (my sister's a champion floater) and with the clothes hanging on me I just couldn't do it. Must be the shift of balance.
We swum across the lake but had to turn back just before the other shore, because a furious Lesser Black-backed Gull was protecting its nest and offspring (a stupid place for a nest, really; all exposed on a rock) so vigorously that even though we obviously had no intention of disturbing the nest and were aiming for a spot some 30 metres away from it, the bird decided we were too close and attacked us a couple of times. Still, the whole experiment was interesting. Now we can finally start our training as secret agents, my sister and me.
Something else on Saturday? Oh, yes, Helsinki Pride '11.Tons of people, missing a lot of friends and acquaintances mostly because I had to leave nearly immediately after the parade, but marching was important. It was sizzzling hot, too, and at some point I removed my rainbow-coloured hoodie and went on shirtless, for the first time since mastectomy. I figured that Pride was a good opportunity for that first time, and it felt so damn good. What surprised me, though, was that walking back from the park (the area of festivities and the ending point of the parade) with my primary (who was dressed up so prettily!) shirtless felt even better. There I was, walking among strangers, and I was being myself, and I could show it to the world.