Sound: A splash in deep water.

I took the challenge from the “Mama’s Losin’ it” blog and stretched a few brain muscles.  I answered #3.  If you want to join in, go to her blog for your challenge.

3.) Describe a 'sound' from your childhood. What was it? When did you hear it? What does it bring to mind?

A splash in deep water

   As a kid we had access to a swim resort just up the hill from our house. It had an indoor and outdoor lap pool, a kiddie pool (ew, not a good idea in the pre-swimmer diaper era, actually, not even then), and a diving tank with a high dive.

   In the tennis-shoe-sole-melting heat of St. George’s summer, my sister and I would don our well worn swimsuits and sandals, wrap our terrycloth stoles around our necks and hike up the hill. I had a black and white chevron striped swimming suit for a couple of years before it disintegrated from an overdose of chlorine. Because of it I had the loveliest striped tan under that swimming suit, giving monochromatic proof that the sun does indeed penetrate through white spandex.

   Erin and I would go directly to the diving tank where we would prepare for our upcoming Olympic debut. Though neither of us knew how to do anything all that fancy, we posed ourselves, while on the board, as if we did. I would stand backwards on the high dive like I was going to do one of those crazy moves where you jump off and in a miraculous way miss hitting your head on the platform. Well, like I said, I would just stand backwards and then, with my arms elegantly lifted over my head, would turn and do a simple dive or an elaborate cannon ball (cannon ball skill lies in weight distribution, tightness of ball, and head direction). Erin had a bit more grace and confidence than I and would sometimes do flips. I’ve tried flips but, after several back flops, gave up and focused my energies on basic dives, more cannon balls, and trying to touch the bottom of the pool. They should make the last one an Olympic sport, “first one to the bottom wins!” I’d certainly excel.

   After a long day at the giant Petri dish for skin cancer causing activity, we grabbed our towels and took our water logged, chlorine scented, and very tanned bodies home for a bath in aloe, a bowl of Raman noodles, an hour with Charles in Charge or the Cosby’s and then off to bed. If you’ve ever wondered where I got all of my freckles, I’d have to say they appeared during the hundreds of trips from the water to the diving board, over and over again.

1893 girl’s swim suit with sash and bonnet.  No doubt this is what Douglas sees me wearing at the pool.