Water is wet

Yesterday I took my first dip in the pond of the season. The rain has been raining STUPID amounts of rain, and causing the bodies of these young workers to be saturated at all times with wet water*, so the ponds have not been so inviting as they would be if we were in the desert of midsummertime. But yesterday, after such a long spell of inconvenience, and after sweeping rooves of irregular buildings until my jeans were so stained with caterpillar guts that I felt like an insecticidal horror film, I stripped and jumped into Round Pond. Ah! It was so pleasant, rather chilly, but very refreshing and today may just be warm enough to do it again. Swimming makes me feel so loooooong like an eel, slippery like a squid, and freer than a space man. I anticipate at least 2 swims per day for the entire summer, but I'm sure some days will elicit even more. I feel like I'm in Herland.


*When I was in High School, and Ms. Krauss was my English teacher, I wrote a paper containing a sentence which stated the obvious. Ms. Krauss' red-ink response was "Water is wet." This comment infused me with laughter for days, and nothing makes me happier (except swimming) than reliving the faux pas forever and ever.