Friday, 9 October 2009
I have been on the fence about uni for about three months, sitting on all six acceptance letters and worrying about having to make up my future. I have been telling other people and myself that I've narrowed it down to either University of Delaware or University of East Anglia in England. Then I got a lovely instant message from Shirley, one of my friends from HOH over in England. We tapped into our computers for half the evening and when we had signed off (too late for her, nearly 11.00 pm here) I stared at her last message for about five minutes doing nothing else. 'See you soon!' she had typed to me. I got a tear in my eye. Straight away I opened Safari and looked up the university web site. Naturally I made sure my first message had gone through and been received before sending the other one.
The second one was to U Delaware.
My whole system has been upset for about three days and this morning I finally got the email to settle my tummy. Of course I had let a few key people know of my decision, but the email from Shirley was worth all the wait. So we have a tentative date to lunch the day after I arrive-- next September! It's good because I will be here or working the ice-cream shop in New Jersey all summer first. Classes start at Michaelmas. I will have three or four friends from HOH there, as UEA is sort of the local school, and Shirley, who will be one year ahead of me (for having continued to 6th form at HOH when I had to return to the US for 11th grade) wants to be my roommie. I will be among familiar people and in a land I love, and Daddy and Mother have promised to visit often and to request my presence home to Terncote for every holiday. In the meantime Jessy and I shall plan a visit over our Easter break-- and I will have shopping to do and people to catch up with. I am excited-- and eager for the challenge of making it work.
Thanks be to God.
...
10 October 2009
Wet black cotton panties
Wednesday, 7 October
The weather continues variable. Yesterday it was windy and cold, horrid really. Salt spray whipped up in the Bay and blew against my windows. Half the chairs in the terrace were blown across against the garden wall. Mother said the table tipped over once and the umbrella which is canvas over a wooden frame went over and carried the table with it till it landed in the flower beds and the wooden umbrella frame broke. As I write Daddy has it down in the garage to glue it.
Then, of course, today was warm, hot really, still, sunny and hot. I ran into the house with Jessy and Josie and we all started getting out of our clothes like we did the other day. Only this time the competition was even fiercer! I had the skirt and my top off by the time I got out the back doors and Jessy was tripping over her panties as she skipped down to the pool. Her friend Josie, however, beat us both and bounded spread-legged, mid-stride, into the middle of the pool. I gave it over and dove in with my panties still on. Those two laughed but really I didn't care. I've done it before, you know.
To make good on my promise I just began swimming my laps from where I came up. I always swim true competitive crawl stroke, with a combination flutter/scissors kick that my father taught me about ten years ago. And I do proper flip-turns at each end, every twelve and a half metres. Josie said she was impressed and actually tried to stay with me for a few laps, but she gave it over and ended up lounging in the corner with Josie.
When Mother got back with little Lisa they came out onto the terrace. Jessy told her about my frustration at not getting out my my panties fast enough and Mother just laughed. Then Lisa accepted the dare-- who dared her, no-one knows! --and undressed right there beside the pool. Josie cheered her on. She and Josie have a kind of unspoken symbiosis, as though they are twin sisters of different mothers, somehow. Lisa adores her and Josie is always doting to Lisa, making her feel welcome as one of us even though she's ten years younger and gets scarcely any of our references. Lisa does things-- like this for example-- as a way of earning Josie's respect and acceptance, the same way she does to gain Jessy's. That leaves me to be the 'wet blanket' always keeping the others in line, but they do heed me when I have some sense to say and we're never at opposite ends of anything where propriety is concerned.
After my 25 laps I rested in the other corner of the pool. I really should have timed myself because I really think my time today was better than most. I stopped timing myself long ago-- there really isn't any point. I don't compete any more and am probably too old to join the high-school team now. And I'm not going to focus on sport at university.
We lolled round the pool till it started to cool off too much and then all repaired to Jessy's room for the usual Facebooking and Twittering. I have not updated my Facebook in ages and actually dared to put on some of the pics we took last time we jumped into the pool like that-- of course we're naked in the pics but they don't show anything terrible! Some colleges look at that, you know. I went on MySpace and responded to the usual email requests. One girl from Connecticut told me she had seen me at the Shore this past summer and wanted to know where I shop. Another girl who is 14 asked me if I have ever done any babysitting for strangers. Many of the others asked me what my plans are for attending concerts this fall and I did tell her about Hey Monday coming to Philadelphia. I dispensed my usual brand of long-winded advice and updated the page with a few dates and stuff. That's the kind of thing I get, you know... thanks to Daddy of course.
Oh, and I did get out of the wet panties and put on some dry ones, and a flannie as a cover-up, for supper when Daddy came home. Josie stayed and then her mother collected her after we had played Pictionary with Lisa. That's the kind of thing I prefer to do... thanks to myself, of course.
...
The weather continues variable. Yesterday it was windy and cold, horrid really. Salt spray whipped up in the Bay and blew against my windows. Half the chairs in the terrace were blown across against the garden wall. Mother said the table tipped over once and the umbrella which is canvas over a wooden frame went over and carried the table with it till it landed in the flower beds and the wooden umbrella frame broke. As I write Daddy has it down in the garage to glue it.
Then, of course, today was warm, hot really, still, sunny and hot. I ran into the house with Jessy and Josie and we all started getting out of our clothes like we did the other day. Only this time the competition was even fiercer! I had the skirt and my top off by the time I got out the back doors and Jessy was tripping over her panties as she skipped down to the pool. Her friend Josie, however, beat us both and bounded spread-legged, mid-stride, into the middle of the pool. I gave it over and dove in with my panties still on. Those two laughed but really I didn't care. I've done it before, you know.
To make good on my promise I just began swimming my laps from where I came up. I always swim true competitive crawl stroke, with a combination flutter/scissors kick that my father taught me about ten years ago. And I do proper flip-turns at each end, every twelve and a half metres. Josie said she was impressed and actually tried to stay with me for a few laps, but she gave it over and ended up lounging in the corner with Josie.
When Mother got back with little Lisa they came out onto the terrace. Jessy told her about my frustration at not getting out my my panties fast enough and Mother just laughed. Then Lisa accepted the dare-- who dared her, no-one knows! --and undressed right there beside the pool. Josie cheered her on. She and Josie have a kind of unspoken symbiosis, as though they are twin sisters of different mothers, somehow. Lisa adores her and Josie is always doting to Lisa, making her feel welcome as one of us even though she's ten years younger and gets scarcely any of our references. Lisa does things-- like this for example-- as a way of earning Josie's respect and acceptance, the same way she does to gain Jessy's. That leaves me to be the 'wet blanket' always keeping the others in line, but they do heed me when I have some sense to say and we're never at opposite ends of anything where propriety is concerned.
After my 25 laps I rested in the other corner of the pool. I really should have timed myself because I really think my time today was better than most. I stopped timing myself long ago-- there really isn't any point. I don't compete any more and am probably too old to join the high-school team now. And I'm not going to focus on sport at university.
We lolled round the pool till it started to cool off too much and then all repaired to Jessy's room for the usual Facebooking and Twittering. I have not updated my Facebook in ages and actually dared to put on some of the pics we took last time we jumped into the pool like that-- of course we're naked in the pics but they don't show anything terrible! Some colleges look at that, you know. I went on MySpace and responded to the usual email requests. One girl from Connecticut told me she had seen me at the Shore this past summer and wanted to know where I shop. Another girl who is 14 asked me if I have ever done any babysitting for strangers. Many of the others asked me what my plans are for attending concerts this fall and I did tell her about Hey Monday coming to Philadelphia. I dispensed my usual brand of long-winded advice and updated the page with a few dates and stuff. That's the kind of thing I get, you know... thanks to Daddy of course.
Oh, and I did get out of the wet panties and put on some dry ones, and a flannie as a cover-up, for supper when Daddy came home. Josie stayed and then her mother collected her after we had played Pictionary with Lisa. That's the kind of thing I prefer to do... thanks to myself, of course.
...
05 October 2009
Another mid-night hugfest
from Sunday, 4 October 2009
For the last few evenings I have been sitting up in my room typing online and writing in journals and sending email-- probably making up for having been out-of-touch when I was sick last week. Usually I am in my cover-up shirt-- as I have described it to so many people online, it's a men's shirt from like the '70s in white cotton and decorated in blue ruffles and stuff round the collar and little tuxedo buttons. I thought it was a women's shirt when I found it on the rack at the thrift shop which Jessy and I visit often, just for fun. But it buttons the other way-- so it's a men's. It is almost my size being only a little too big and it makes a good swimsuit cover-up, and so I have used it on the beach or round the house for over a year now. Jessy has another shirt for the same purpose but hers is a faded bright red and a little heavier, almost like a flannie.
Sometimes I wear the cover-up shirt round the house, maybe with socks if my feet are cold or sandals or even shoes if I feel like it... and nothing else. It's acceptable enough if I keep it closed. For a while I was using a little silver belt round my waist to hold it closed, but that got awkward because the pleats down the front get twisted and wrinkled. And I'd rather not have to iron something I used only as a cover-up, you know.
I was sitting here last night typing like crazy when I heard Lisa saying something in her bed. She gets tucked-in round 8.00 and normally goes out like a light. Here it was past 9.30 and she was up and upset about something. I got up, wrapped my arms round myself to hold the short closed, and tiptoed into her room.
'Hey,' I whispered. 'Are you okay?'
'Janine?' she called from the darkness.
Without putting on a light I shuffled in and sat on the side of her bed. 'I'm here, sweetie. What's wrong?'
She sniffled. 'I had a bad dream,' she said.
'Awww, sweetie....' I reached out and she put her arms up and we hugged. I hung onto her nice and snugly for a few minutes without even saying anything. She is known for being a willingly snuggler and will happily hang onto any of us for as long as we can stand it. She nestled her head upon my chest and wrapped her little arms round my middle and made a very nice little package to hang onto. 'What was it about?' I asked her.
'Something was chasing me,' she whispered. 'I was outside looking for Mummy and you. I couldn't find you... and something came out of the bushes outside.'
'Awww.... Was it dark, in the dream?'
'Uh-huh.'
'Sweetie,' I said with a little smile. 'But you are never outside like that in the dark. You know it's only something like a dream then. When you woke up in your own bed, you knew you were safe and sound.'
She sniffled. 'I thought I heard it in my room,' she said.
'Shhh, shhh.... We both listened for like a full minute. Nothing came but the faint sound of Jessy typing away on her computer down the gallery. She had her headphones on and we could not even hear the hiss of her music. 'There's no one here but you and me,' I said.
'Will you sleep with me?' she asked.
'Oh, sweetie.... I will be up a whole longer. And this is your bed. You'll be fine here.'
'I don't want to be alone,' she said.
I gave her a big squeeze and then held her out in front of me. Her well-browned little body was as dark as the shadows of the room. 'But you are never alone,' I whispered to her. 'There is always someone here to care for you. You know that.'
She nodded and blotted her eyes. Then, impetuously, she put out her arms and caught me for a hug, this time reaching inside the shirt. It was only inadvertent, you know, but for a moment I felt strangely womanly, as though in that one moment Lisa were my own child. She lay her head right on top of my breast and sighed with her eyes closed. I wondered if she imagined the same thing too.
Mother and Daddy have their room on the other side of the main tower, in the same place as mine but down the other wing. Beside them is what was intended for the lady's parlour, now being used as J.J.'s nursery. The three of us girls are all up here in the north wing. If Lisa cries out, it's sort of implied that it's my job to get up and go see to her. Mother would never hear her, and of course their door is usually closed at night. My door (the one on the north gallery) is always open. Lisa has often wandered in late at night or early in the morning to snuggle with me, or sometimes Jessy, and she knows she is never unwelcome. In that way then I am sometimes the substitute mother down here.
When I was Lisa's age, my stepmother was our nanny and she was about the age I am now. I remember on the few times I had bad dreams she would tiptoe in to my room and ask in a gentle whisper if I were all right. Of course I loved my mother and trusted her implicitly, but I always felt special when our nanny came in to comfort me. She had a sweet, affectionate way with Jessy and me that came from loving us by choice-- she was not our mother, yet she chose to love us anyway, and I think we always felt comforted by that. Lisa is not my child, she is in fact only a half-sister, and I know in many families there is sometimes animosity between half-siblings over who gets the most attention. We have solved that in this house by making sure that we all pay attention to all the others. No one is immune to getting a hug round here. And as I have written before, no one is immune to getting scolded by someone older round here. Lisa has accidentally called me 'Mummy' more than a few times., because she accepts my authority and my affection, almost as though she had two mothers. I have never minded it. In many ways she is sort of a plaything for me, the one I get to practise playing mummy on myself. After all when our nanny became our stepmother none of us doubted that she would turn out to be as wonderful as she has, for she had experience in caring for us out of love. I know that, if God grants me the opportunity, I will have children and love and guide and hug them with all my heart. I believe that's the purpose of life. I only hope that from having been so attentive to little Lisa, I will be as good to my own children as my mother was, as our stepmother has been after her. and that they will adore me as much as I have adored my own mother, and my stepmother after her. There is a lot of love in this family.
I tucked Lisa back into her covers, bending down and kissing her forehead. She sighed, shifting her bottom into the bed a little, and smiled up at me. 'I love you, Janine,' she said softly.
'And I love you, sweet little princess. Do not worry about scary creatures in the night, all right? And if you are worried, you just run down the hall to my room and come in with me. Okay?'
She nodded. I was still bending over her and I saw her look down at me. From that time last year that little J.J. innocently touched me I know there is a certain appeal to how I look when I am assuming a motherly role for these little ones. It's because I am sort of built like Mother is. Jessy has the body of a ballerina, lithe and lovely-- she gets it from our own mommy. But I have the 'assets' (how I hate that term) that smaller children tend to associate with actual mothers, and since they have not seen their mother's own 'assets' since they stopped nursing, and since they see mine so much (as you must know) I think they tend to assume straight away that I am the second mother round here. But I don't mind. As I have told them before, I cannot help what God wanted me to look like. In fact maybe He let me look like this on purpose to be able to reassure a small child who wakes up in the night, too far from their own mother, so that she may feel she is safe and loved and home where she belongs, with a big sister who loves her for all the right reasons.
I returned to my room and sat back on my bed, in the dull bluish glow of the laptop screen, and felt a little shiver. I always get that shiver when something that has just passed has just gone so unbelievably RIGHT that I'm almost embarrassed or afraid to admit it, like after making a good impression on front of someone famous or acing an oral presentation in class or coming in from some really lovely date with a terrific guy who actually likes me and wants to see me again. It's God's way of patting me on the back-- 'Servant, well done.'
The next question I got on an AOL message was 'bra size?' Oh, well.
...
For the last few evenings I have been sitting up in my room typing online and writing in journals and sending email-- probably making up for having been out-of-touch when I was sick last week. Usually I am in my cover-up shirt-- as I have described it to so many people online, it's a men's shirt from like the '70s in white cotton and decorated in blue ruffles and stuff round the collar and little tuxedo buttons. I thought it was a women's shirt when I found it on the rack at the thrift shop which Jessy and I visit often, just for fun. But it buttons the other way-- so it's a men's. It is almost my size being only a little too big and it makes a good swimsuit cover-up, and so I have used it on the beach or round the house for over a year now. Jessy has another shirt for the same purpose but hers is a faded bright red and a little heavier, almost like a flannie.
Sometimes I wear the cover-up shirt round the house, maybe with socks if my feet are cold or sandals or even shoes if I feel like it... and nothing else. It's acceptable enough if I keep it closed. For a while I was using a little silver belt round my waist to hold it closed, but that got awkward because the pleats down the front get twisted and wrinkled. And I'd rather not have to iron something I used only as a cover-up, you know.
I was sitting here last night typing like crazy when I heard Lisa saying something in her bed. She gets tucked-in round 8.00 and normally goes out like a light. Here it was past 9.30 and she was up and upset about something. I got up, wrapped my arms round myself to hold the short closed, and tiptoed into her room.
'Hey,' I whispered. 'Are you okay?'
'Janine?' she called from the darkness.
Without putting on a light I shuffled in and sat on the side of her bed. 'I'm here, sweetie. What's wrong?'
She sniffled. 'I had a bad dream,' she said.
'Awww, sweetie....' I reached out and she put her arms up and we hugged. I hung onto her nice and snugly for a few minutes without even saying anything. She is known for being a willingly snuggler and will happily hang onto any of us for as long as we can stand it. She nestled her head upon my chest and wrapped her little arms round my middle and made a very nice little package to hang onto. 'What was it about?' I asked her.
'Something was chasing me,' she whispered. 'I was outside looking for Mummy and you. I couldn't find you... and something came out of the bushes outside.'
'Awww.... Was it dark, in the dream?'
'Uh-huh.'
'Sweetie,' I said with a little smile. 'But you are never outside like that in the dark. You know it's only something like a dream then. When you woke up in your own bed, you knew you were safe and sound.'
She sniffled. 'I thought I heard it in my room,' she said.
'Shhh, shhh.... We both listened for like a full minute. Nothing came but the faint sound of Jessy typing away on her computer down the gallery. She had her headphones on and we could not even hear the hiss of her music. 'There's no one here but you and me,' I said.
'Will you sleep with me?' she asked.
'Oh, sweetie.... I will be up a whole longer. And this is your bed. You'll be fine here.'
'I don't want to be alone,' she said.
I gave her a big squeeze and then held her out in front of me. Her well-browned little body was as dark as the shadows of the room. 'But you are never alone,' I whispered to her. 'There is always someone here to care for you. You know that.'
She nodded and blotted her eyes. Then, impetuously, she put out her arms and caught me for a hug, this time reaching inside the shirt. It was only inadvertent, you know, but for a moment I felt strangely womanly, as though in that one moment Lisa were my own child. She lay her head right on top of my breast and sighed with her eyes closed. I wondered if she imagined the same thing too.
Mother and Daddy have their room on the other side of the main tower, in the same place as mine but down the other wing. Beside them is what was intended for the lady's parlour, now being used as J.J.'s nursery. The three of us girls are all up here in the north wing. If Lisa cries out, it's sort of implied that it's my job to get up and go see to her. Mother would never hear her, and of course their door is usually closed at night. My door (the one on the north gallery) is always open. Lisa has often wandered in late at night or early in the morning to snuggle with me, or sometimes Jessy, and she knows she is never unwelcome. In that way then I am sometimes the substitute mother down here.
When I was Lisa's age, my stepmother was our nanny and she was about the age I am now. I remember on the few times I had bad dreams she would tiptoe in to my room and ask in a gentle whisper if I were all right. Of course I loved my mother and trusted her implicitly, but I always felt special when our nanny came in to comfort me. She had a sweet, affectionate way with Jessy and me that came from loving us by choice-- she was not our mother, yet she chose to love us anyway, and I think we always felt comforted by that. Lisa is not my child, she is in fact only a half-sister, and I know in many families there is sometimes animosity between half-siblings over who gets the most attention. We have solved that in this house by making sure that we all pay attention to all the others. No one is immune to getting a hug round here. And as I have written before, no one is immune to getting scolded by someone older round here. Lisa has accidentally called me 'Mummy' more than a few times., because she accepts my authority and my affection, almost as though she had two mothers. I have never minded it. In many ways she is sort of a plaything for me, the one I get to practise playing mummy on myself. After all when our nanny became our stepmother none of us doubted that she would turn out to be as wonderful as she has, for she had experience in caring for us out of love. I know that, if God grants me the opportunity, I will have children and love and guide and hug them with all my heart. I believe that's the purpose of life. I only hope that from having been so attentive to little Lisa, I will be as good to my own children as my mother was, as our stepmother has been after her. and that they will adore me as much as I have adored my own mother, and my stepmother after her. There is a lot of love in this family.
I tucked Lisa back into her covers, bending down and kissing her forehead. She sighed, shifting her bottom into the bed a little, and smiled up at me. 'I love you, Janine,' she said softly.
'And I love you, sweet little princess. Do not worry about scary creatures in the night, all right? And if you are worried, you just run down the hall to my room and come in with me. Okay?'
She nodded. I was still bending over her and I saw her look down at me. From that time last year that little J.J. innocently touched me I know there is a certain appeal to how I look when I am assuming a motherly role for these little ones. It's because I am sort of built like Mother is. Jessy has the body of a ballerina, lithe and lovely-- she gets it from our own mommy. But I have the 'assets' (how I hate that term) that smaller children tend to associate with actual mothers, and since they have not seen their mother's own 'assets' since they stopped nursing, and since they see mine so much (as you must know) I think they tend to assume straight away that I am the second mother round here. But I don't mind. As I have told them before, I cannot help what God wanted me to look like. In fact maybe He let me look like this on purpose to be able to reassure a small child who wakes up in the night, too far from their own mother, so that she may feel she is safe and loved and home where she belongs, with a big sister who loves her for all the right reasons.
I returned to my room and sat back on my bed, in the dull bluish glow of the laptop screen, and felt a little shiver. I always get that shiver when something that has just passed has just gone so unbelievably RIGHT that I'm almost embarrassed or afraid to admit it, like after making a good impression on front of someone famous or acing an oral presentation in class or coming in from some really lovely date with a terrific guy who actually likes me and wants to see me again. It's God's way of patting me on the back-- 'Servant, well done.'
The next question I got on an AOL message was 'bra size?' Oh, well.
...
04 October 2009
Some rejuvenation
Saturday, 3 October
Now that I have got over the headcold (which was so awful I stayed home from school on Tuesday... and missed church for Michaelmas), I suppose it is time to get outside again whilst the weather still allows it. The day was expected to be cloudy but when Jessy and I awoke it was actually very lovely, sunny and clear with a very light breeze and, most importantly, warm. She came in when I was washing in my bathroom. 'Are you going out?' she asked me.
'Is it warm out?' I asked back.
'Does a fish live in the water?' She giggled.
We had both slept naked and so didn't put anything on... of course. Daddy had been up early and had already skimmed the pool. He believes in doing a little each day-- he calls it is 'exercise', though he does plenty o other things too and has always been in exceptionally good shape. The pool tends to get salty, especially with the weather we have had over the last week, but when I dove in this morning it was just about perfect. Being on the eastern side of the house it warms up early in mornings, even when you don't expect it to be a warm day. The house tends to block cooler western and south western breezes and the garden wall keeps it warm close to the terrace blocks... or in the water of course.
I did my 'usual' 25 laps, 312 metres of crawl stroke. To someone who has never tried it I can only say that swimming naked in the pool-- and I mean actually swimming, not just lolling round-- has got to be the most delightful thing in the world. I have remarked to some people-- usually online, though with others too-- when they wonder if it is 'arousing', that yes, it definitely is, but I don't think they understand what the arousal is really like. I would not say it is sexual. There is that, of course, in every form of excitement, tingles in certain places, goosepimples on the chest, bottom feeling tight, legs quivering, you know how that is. But I would rather say it is physical. The physical activity of swimming pretty much dispels the pent-up energy-- you have something to do and something to concentrate on, and even if it's hard, such as it was for me round lap 18 today when I was coming off six days of rain during which I felt too awful to do much more than sleep, you cherish it. Swimming is never a burden for me. I could do it all day if my body would allow it. My record is about 125 laps of this pool, nonstop-- that's like a mile, and I only stopped when I realised it was like a mile (and yes, it was naked too). I would do more if I had nothing better to do. What I am calling arousal is that very fine little vibration you get all over your whole body, feeling the water envelop you like sweet syrup round every part, feeling the chlorine in your face as you pump arm-over-arm, feeling it sweep by you and break round every leading-edge of your body as though you are sleek shiny porpoise perfectly at-home in your favourite environment. And yes, your heart quickens and your skin creeps with something like arousal, but it's everything together. It does NOT make me feel horny. It makes me feel acutely alive. That's the best way to describe it.
Mother came out, with little J.J. and some gardening things, and Jessy and I spent maybe half an hour going round the gardens that surround our pool pulling leaves and other bits out of where they do not belong. J.J. teased Jessy about being bare, as he often does, and in the course of her labours Jessy had to crawl in past the bluebells she ended up right on her tummy in the loamish soil and emerged blotted with bits of it all over her. 'Ha-ha,' J.J. taunted. 'You've got it on your....' And he pointed.
Jessy giggled, looking down at herself. I won't say where it had got to-- but it wasn't anywhere most people have to worry about getting dirty! She stood there blotting things off herself and J.J. was only pointing. 'Im a mess,' Jessy said.
'There's more,' he said, pointing. She bent farther and looked. 'On your....'
'Just say "crutch",' she said gently to him, and I saw her pulling a little stick out of her maidenhair. J.J. wrinkled his nose at her. 'It's only part of me,' Jessy said in that sweet tone.
'Why is it fuzzy?'
Jessy only laughed. 'Because it is. It's what God wants me to look like. You know that.'
He nodded-- he has heard that before. 'Well this is what God wants me to look like.'
Of course J.J. does not go in for our girlish antics. Today he was working in the yard with blue jeans having big thick patches on the knees, a Batman t-shirt and an important-looking black canvas belt with a few packets of this and that and his water-pistol mounted on it. He takes work seriously, you know. 'And you are very sharp and handsome,' she said, and bent down and kissed his head. 'I am glad I have such a good brother.'
He shivered from the kiss and turned to go back to where Mother was weeding a little.
Later in the afternoon it became cloudy and I came up here and typed a little. I have had this awful assignment on the Norman conquest to do and it's been dragging so long-- my first draught was rejected my the teacher for not having enough sources. I learned all this when I was at HOH! --why do I have to cite sources when it's just common knowledge. But my history teacher does not have the benefit of having gone to school in England. It's different there. Would you have to cite sources to say that the Declaration of Independence was signed in Philadelphia?
Round 3.00 I heard an airplane coming in low over the Bay out back. Daddy was out back raking down by the water and cried out, 'Holy cow! Look at this!' I bounded up and ran to the window. At that moment an old-fashioned biplane went buzzing right by the house, about 100 feet off the water and barely 300 yards from my window. It pulled up just north of us and circled round above the fishing wharf, and we could hear it going round again past the road. 'Wow,' I said.
Below me, Jessy emerged-- fortunately with a shirt on-- and I grabbed mine off the chair and ran down to the little parlour. Out in the garden Daddy had his mobile phone up, taking pictures. The airplane wasn't exactly circling us, you know-- he was just buzzing the general neighbourhood, but I knew Daddy wanted to take pictures for two reasons. One was because it was an amazing sight-- when was the last time any of us saw a 70-year-old airplane fly by like this? And the other reason was that the pilot was technically breaking the law-- flying too low and performing what could be called stunt flying over a populated area (if you can call our road 'populated'!). So his pictures would get the airplane's number. The airplane went wide round the whole community and then went round way south of us, dropping down low again and buzzed straight up the bay, very low this time, ripping right by our house. Jessy and I stood holding our arms folded in front of ourselves, mainly to keep our cover-up shirts closed (hah!) and Daddy stood with his arm extended snapping pictures. The pilot looked out for a split second and waved. I think maybe he thought Daddy was waving, but then he must have realised that he was taking pictures and just blew out of sight around to the north and west of us, towards the airport actually, maybe feeling worried that with the pictures we could report him. That's Daddy's way-- if there is anything that could be taken as a threat to our security here, he will counter with a kind of offence against the offender. This is how he has dealt with invasive paparazzi all these years and it's actually enabled us to live a pretty normal life.
After that bit of excitement Jessy and I came back in, because it was getting chilly. I had socks on for a while. Josie came over after supper and the three of us, and Lisa, went down stairs to watch Branagh's 'Much Ado' (Jessy's choice). It was a pleasant day, all the more so because it was the first nice day I've had since before I got sick. I only hope tomorrow will be better.
...
Now that I have got over the headcold (which was so awful I stayed home from school on Tuesday... and missed church for Michaelmas), I suppose it is time to get outside again whilst the weather still allows it. The day was expected to be cloudy but when Jessy and I awoke it was actually very lovely, sunny and clear with a very light breeze and, most importantly, warm. She came in when I was washing in my bathroom. 'Are you going out?' she asked me.
'Is it warm out?' I asked back.
'Does a fish live in the water?' She giggled.
We had both slept naked and so didn't put anything on... of course. Daddy had been up early and had already skimmed the pool. He believes in doing a little each day-- he calls it is 'exercise', though he does plenty o other things too and has always been in exceptionally good shape. The pool tends to get salty, especially with the weather we have had over the last week, but when I dove in this morning it was just about perfect. Being on the eastern side of the house it warms up early in mornings, even when you don't expect it to be a warm day. The house tends to block cooler western and south western breezes and the garden wall keeps it warm close to the terrace blocks... or in the water of course.
I did my 'usual' 25 laps, 312 metres of crawl stroke. To someone who has never tried it I can only say that swimming naked in the pool-- and I mean actually swimming, not just lolling round-- has got to be the most delightful thing in the world. I have remarked to some people-- usually online, though with others too-- when they wonder if it is 'arousing', that yes, it definitely is, but I don't think they understand what the arousal is really like. I would not say it is sexual. There is that, of course, in every form of excitement, tingles in certain places, goosepimples on the chest, bottom feeling tight, legs quivering, you know how that is. But I would rather say it is physical. The physical activity of swimming pretty much dispels the pent-up energy-- you have something to do and something to concentrate on, and even if it's hard, such as it was for me round lap 18 today when I was coming off six days of rain during which I felt too awful to do much more than sleep, you cherish it. Swimming is never a burden for me. I could do it all day if my body would allow it. My record is about 125 laps of this pool, nonstop-- that's like a mile, and I only stopped when I realised it was like a mile (and yes, it was naked too). I would do more if I had nothing better to do. What I am calling arousal is that very fine little vibration you get all over your whole body, feeling the water envelop you like sweet syrup round every part, feeling the chlorine in your face as you pump arm-over-arm, feeling it sweep by you and break round every leading-edge of your body as though you are sleek shiny porpoise perfectly at-home in your favourite environment. And yes, your heart quickens and your skin creeps with something like arousal, but it's everything together. It does NOT make me feel horny. It makes me feel acutely alive. That's the best way to describe it.
Mother came out, with little J.J. and some gardening things, and Jessy and I spent maybe half an hour going round the gardens that surround our pool pulling leaves and other bits out of where they do not belong. J.J. teased Jessy about being bare, as he often does, and in the course of her labours Jessy had to crawl in past the bluebells she ended up right on her tummy in the loamish soil and emerged blotted with bits of it all over her. 'Ha-ha,' J.J. taunted. 'You've got it on your....' And he pointed.
Jessy giggled, looking down at herself. I won't say where it had got to-- but it wasn't anywhere most people have to worry about getting dirty! She stood there blotting things off herself and J.J. was only pointing. 'Im a mess,' Jessy said.
'There's more,' he said, pointing. She bent farther and looked. 'On your....'
'Just say "crutch",' she said gently to him, and I saw her pulling a little stick out of her maidenhair. J.J. wrinkled his nose at her. 'It's only part of me,' Jessy said in that sweet tone.
'Why is it fuzzy?'
Jessy only laughed. 'Because it is. It's what God wants me to look like. You know that.'
He nodded-- he has heard that before. 'Well this is what God wants me to look like.'
Of course J.J. does not go in for our girlish antics. Today he was working in the yard with blue jeans having big thick patches on the knees, a Batman t-shirt and an important-looking black canvas belt with a few packets of this and that and his water-pistol mounted on it. He takes work seriously, you know. 'And you are very sharp and handsome,' she said, and bent down and kissed his head. 'I am glad I have such a good brother.'
He shivered from the kiss and turned to go back to where Mother was weeding a little.
Later in the afternoon it became cloudy and I came up here and typed a little. I have had this awful assignment on the Norman conquest to do and it's been dragging so long-- my first draught was rejected my the teacher for not having enough sources. I learned all this when I was at HOH! --why do I have to cite sources when it's just common knowledge. But my history teacher does not have the benefit of having gone to school in England. It's different there. Would you have to cite sources to say that the Declaration of Independence was signed in Philadelphia?
Round 3.00 I heard an airplane coming in low over the Bay out back. Daddy was out back raking down by the water and cried out, 'Holy cow! Look at this!' I bounded up and ran to the window. At that moment an old-fashioned biplane went buzzing right by the house, about 100 feet off the water and barely 300 yards from my window. It pulled up just north of us and circled round above the fishing wharf, and we could hear it going round again past the road. 'Wow,' I said.
Below me, Jessy emerged-- fortunately with a shirt on-- and I grabbed mine off the chair and ran down to the little parlour. Out in the garden Daddy had his mobile phone up, taking pictures. The airplane wasn't exactly circling us, you know-- he was just buzzing the general neighbourhood, but I knew Daddy wanted to take pictures for two reasons. One was because it was an amazing sight-- when was the last time any of us saw a 70-year-old airplane fly by like this? And the other reason was that the pilot was technically breaking the law-- flying too low and performing what could be called stunt flying over a populated area (if you can call our road 'populated'!). So his pictures would get the airplane's number. The airplane went wide round the whole community and then went round way south of us, dropping down low again and buzzed straight up the bay, very low this time, ripping right by our house. Jessy and I stood holding our arms folded in front of ourselves, mainly to keep our cover-up shirts closed (hah!) and Daddy stood with his arm extended snapping pictures. The pilot looked out for a split second and waved. I think maybe he thought Daddy was waving, but then he must have realised that he was taking pictures and just blew out of sight around to the north and west of us, towards the airport actually, maybe feeling worried that with the pictures we could report him. That's Daddy's way-- if there is anything that could be taken as a threat to our security here, he will counter with a kind of offence against the offender. This is how he has dealt with invasive paparazzi all these years and it's actually enabled us to live a pretty normal life.
After that bit of excitement Jessy and I came back in, because it was getting chilly. I had socks on for a while. Josie came over after supper and the three of us, and Lisa, went down stairs to watch Branagh's 'Much Ado' (Jessy's choice). It was a pleasant day, all the more so because it was the first nice day I've had since before I got sick. I only hope tomorrow will be better.
...
25 September 2009
The plunge that refreshes
Wednesday 23 September
I wore a nice dress today to school. It's one of my London dresses that I got this summer. It's just a dress, you know, in cotton/rayon with short sleeves and soft skirts falling to just at my fingertips, which is what is called 'a good length' --you know, not too short and not too long. I didn't wear a slip under it (it's lined) and so it felt very cool on such a hot day. Of course going up stairs I kept to the wall side. I usually do in a skirt or dress anyway. This is one benefit of when women wore floor-length skirts-- like my Colonial outfit for reenactments or the ice-cream shop, and you all know what I have said about when I wear that one.
Anyway I got many nice compliments. I will wear an actual dress maybe three days of a school year. More often I wear a skirt, you know. Of about 450 girls in this school, on any given day maybe 40 of them will be wearing skirts, and less than 4 of them will be wearing dresses. The rest wear jeans or trainers (US: 'sweatpants'). I try to get a little dressed-up at least once a week, often twice, but with having PE second period it's awkward, you know. Today girls in the cabana (US: 'locker room') had nice things to say about the dress. The colour is not me at all-- a deep, violet-indigo that's almost sensually suggestive. [giggle] I really do love it, even if I'd rather not be known that way... and I was pretty pleased with the attention if I absolutely must admit that.
Then, of course, it was hot today... so you know what that means. I drove us to school and we were to bring Josie home with us. She and Jessy were making up cute little dares all the way home for when we got there-- like, 'I dare you to jump in backwards.' --or, 'I dare you to jump in with your clothes on.' --till finally I said, 'I'll race you both to the pool.'
Jessy giggled. 'Oo, don't dare me to beat you, because I'll get in like this.'
Josie teased her. 'Surrrrre you will!'
At the house I got out of the car and then took my time, since I had to lock up the car, get my school stuff, and prancing up to the front door, and both of them were impatient. But it was only to make sure we all started at the same time, you know. 'Last one into the pool is a slug,' I said, and suddenly we had dropt all our stuff on the floor and were desperately peeling off clothes on the way out to the French windows.
I was actually able to leave the dress draped carefully over a chair and kicked off the shoes before Jessy got out of her jeans. So I wasn't last! Josie was first, dashing straight into the pool and landing mid-stride in the water. We laughed ourselves silly-- she looked like a cartoon scene. Jessy was struggling with the back of her bra when I dove in, leaving my arms and legs a little too wide apart just to savour the sensation of immersing myself so immediately. That pool felt great.
Of course being so close to the ocean (yes, about 40 yards from the back-bay channel) our pool is always a little brackish. Daddy says you just have to give up on this one. A little saline doesn't hurt anything and in fact he backs off a little on the chlorine unless it's really hot and sunny, when the salt content attracts bacteria. Today it was just about right-- and we would not have complained anyway.
Mother and J.J. got home with Lisa, who came out straight away. 'How did I know you guys would be in there!' she teased, standing beside the pool and stripping off. We all giggled at her-- she loves being the centre of attention, especially our attention. In some ways she is like an honourary teenager!
Then Mother came out with J.J. and put him in his water-wings. Last summer Jessy and I taught Lisa to swim the length of the 12-1/2-metre pool and now, 6 years old, she will do laps on her own. J.J. is 3 and of course less reliable in the water, but we were all happy to push him round in the inflatable thing. He had a good time and did not complain that all three of his sisters, and their friend, were all naked. Of course he never is-- he thinks it's for girls only, which, for now, is fine with us.
Mother lay on a chaise in her shorts and sleeveless top and read in Angela's Ashes, which was one of Jessy's summer-reading selections. As part of our rowdy games in the pool we all got out at one time or another and I ended up lying on a cushion on the terrace for what may have been up to half an hour straight. We all played with Lisa and J.J. till well after tea, when Jessy and Josie went up to her room, to FaceBook to their hearts' content, no doubt. As of right now they are lying on their stomachs and elbows side-by-side on Jessy's bed with two laptops in front of them and the fingers clicking away... almost as fast as mine are right now.
I wish it could always be like this... but a front is expected this week and then we will have autumn. [sigh]
...
I wore a nice dress today to school. It's one of my London dresses that I got this summer. It's just a dress, you know, in cotton/rayon with short sleeves and soft skirts falling to just at my fingertips, which is what is called 'a good length' --you know, not too short and not too long. I didn't wear a slip under it (it's lined) and so it felt very cool on such a hot day. Of course going up stairs I kept to the wall side. I usually do in a skirt or dress anyway. This is one benefit of when women wore floor-length skirts-- like my Colonial outfit for reenactments or the ice-cream shop, and you all know what I have said about when I wear that one.
Anyway I got many nice compliments. I will wear an actual dress maybe three days of a school year. More often I wear a skirt, you know. Of about 450 girls in this school, on any given day maybe 40 of them will be wearing skirts, and less than 4 of them will be wearing dresses. The rest wear jeans or trainers (US: 'sweatpants'). I try to get a little dressed-up at least once a week, often twice, but with having PE second period it's awkward, you know. Today girls in the cabana (US: 'locker room') had nice things to say about the dress. The colour is not me at all-- a deep, violet-indigo that's almost sensually suggestive. [giggle] I really do love it, even if I'd rather not be known that way... and I was pretty pleased with the attention if I absolutely must admit that.
Then, of course, it was hot today... so you know what that means. I drove us to school and we were to bring Josie home with us. She and Jessy were making up cute little dares all the way home for when we got there-- like, 'I dare you to jump in backwards.' --or, 'I dare you to jump in with your clothes on.' --till finally I said, 'I'll race you both to the pool.'
Jessy giggled. 'Oo, don't dare me to beat you, because I'll get in like this.'
Josie teased her. 'Surrrrre you will!'
At the house I got out of the car and then took my time, since I had to lock up the car, get my school stuff, and prancing up to the front door, and both of them were impatient. But it was only to make sure we all started at the same time, you know. 'Last one into the pool is a slug,' I said, and suddenly we had dropt all our stuff on the floor and were desperately peeling off clothes on the way out to the French windows.
I was actually able to leave the dress draped carefully over a chair and kicked off the shoes before Jessy got out of her jeans. So I wasn't last! Josie was first, dashing straight into the pool and landing mid-stride in the water. We laughed ourselves silly-- she looked like a cartoon scene. Jessy was struggling with the back of her bra when I dove in, leaving my arms and legs a little too wide apart just to savour the sensation of immersing myself so immediately. That pool felt great.
Of course being so close to the ocean (yes, about 40 yards from the back-bay channel) our pool is always a little brackish. Daddy says you just have to give up on this one. A little saline doesn't hurt anything and in fact he backs off a little on the chlorine unless it's really hot and sunny, when the salt content attracts bacteria. Today it was just about right-- and we would not have complained anyway.
Mother and J.J. got home with Lisa, who came out straight away. 'How did I know you guys would be in there!' she teased, standing beside the pool and stripping off. We all giggled at her-- she loves being the centre of attention, especially our attention. In some ways she is like an honourary teenager!
Then Mother came out with J.J. and put him in his water-wings. Last summer Jessy and I taught Lisa to swim the length of the 12-1/2-metre pool and now, 6 years old, she will do laps on her own. J.J. is 3 and of course less reliable in the water, but we were all happy to push him round in the inflatable thing. He had a good time and did not complain that all three of his sisters, and their friend, were all naked. Of course he never is-- he thinks it's for girls only, which, for now, is fine with us.
Mother lay on a chaise in her shorts and sleeveless top and read in Angela's Ashes, which was one of Jessy's summer-reading selections. As part of our rowdy games in the pool we all got out at one time or another and I ended up lying on a cushion on the terrace for what may have been up to half an hour straight. We all played with Lisa and J.J. till well after tea, when Jessy and Josie went up to her room, to FaceBook to their hearts' content, no doubt. As of right now they are lying on their stomachs and elbows side-by-side on Jessy's bed with two laptops in front of them and the fingers clicking away... almost as fast as mine are right now.
I wish it could always be like this... but a front is expected this week and then we will have autumn. [sigh]
...
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