Day: September 14, 2018

Posted on

Yes, I Am An Actual Grown-Up

Me and Bow Tie o’ the Day, in my sexy swimming suit. September 9, 2018. The beach at sunset, on Dauphin Island, AL. USA.

Ever since I was a kid, I have wanted one of these old timey, 1890’s-era swimming suits. I can’t believe I’ve gone 54 years without getting one. I finally found a place that sells these, but then I had a tough decision to make: Do I buy the green one, the red one, or the blue one? I went with the green.

This style of swimming suit pairs perfectly with a wood, curly-mustache Bow Tie o’ the Day to top it off. The island’s beaches will never recover from experiencing me in my unconventional swimming suit and bow tie. (Excuse the Nike’s I’m wearing on the beach in this photo. I killed one of my flip-flops the day before, and these were the only other shoes I had. Going barefoot on this section of the beach wasn’t an option, cuz of broken seashells.)

One of the perks of being an adult is being able to express your outrageously whimsical side without having to explain what the heck you’re thinking. Some people might want you to explain, but you do not have to. Nobody’s going to ground you. Some people might stare quizzically and otherwise try to figure out your game. But you know that you don’t have a game. You don’t have a lurking reason or ulterior motive to engage in your harmless whim, except that you just want to do it. And I hope you know you don’t need a reason beyond giving yourself some joy.

Life is full of heartaches. Some are beyond your control. Some, you create for yourself. But, ultimately, you are responsible for making your own happiness, no matter your situation. You’re alive, and I hope you’re trying to make your spins around the sun as exhilarating and captivating as possible– for you and for those in your orbit.

I am so pleased with my awesome swimming suit– and the enthusiastic reactions to it– that I’m thinking of designating a day of the week to wearing it everywhere, year-round. Maybe I’ll declare every Wednesday to be Old Timey Swimming Suit Hump Day. And ya know what? That gives me a tidy excuse to buy the swimming suit in the other two colors. You can’t wear the same color of swimming suit every Old Timey Swimming Suit Hump Day, right? Wardrobe, wardrobe, wardrobe!

 

 

Posted on

You Don’t Know, Until You Go

Our trip to Dauphin Island was planned and paid for months before we knew I’d need my surgery. Once I found out it was imperative they butcher part of my Hanky Panky, I had to decide whether to have my little pancreas operation right away, or to wait until our schedule was open again in November. But it was best to let them cut me open as soon as it could be arranged.

If I got cut open ASAP in late-June, that would give me nine weeks of recovery time before our trip. We– including the surgeon– figured the two months between surgery and vacay would give me enough convalescent time to be in shape to go on a low-energy vacation, so we decided not to cancel or reschedule our trip.

For the nine weeks that I was stuck in the house using all my energy to recuperate, being ready for our Alabama trip was my light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel goal. It was a milestone I worked to achieve. I knew I had to take extra good care of myself if I was going to be ready to head out across the country. Suzanne and I took gingerly good care of me during those weeks.

As the trip date approached, I was excited but apprehensive. I felt like I was well enough to fly away, but I worried vacation would be too hard on my old, healing body. I was concerned that I might play too hard. But while in ‘Bama, I worked at being careful, and I managed to have the most mellow vacay adventure of my life. I had a ball. A lazy, enjoyable ball.

Even so, Suzanne and I soon realized the trip had happened a little too early in the course of my recovery. In this photo, Tie o’ the Day’s colorful ocean buoys are attempting to buoy up my spirits. I had to spend most of this day sprawled out resting on the couch, as I am doing in this shot. I wasn’t even up for beaching.

Couch potato rest, or no couch potato rest, we still had to eat– so Suzanne went out into the town alone to slay a beast for us to consume. She went to the Lighthouse Bakery and slayed us a couple of trophy cinnamon rolls. She promptly dragged their carcasses back to the condo. She’s got a sharp eye, and that’s what makes her a spot-on hunter. I’m glad it was Cinnamon Roll Season on Dauphin Island.

The pastry was health-giving, and I was later able to waller off the couch and go to the beach that evening– where we watched the sun set over the ocean. And of course I wore my new, sexy swimming suit.

It will be revealed in the next post.