Have you heard of wild swimming? It's basically swimming in rivers, lakes and such out in the wild. It's not something I thought I could ever be persuaded to do, though I love swimming in the sea.
Yesterday we went for a picnic, which was going to be the subject of today's post. When we got home I let the old dog out into the garden and noticed her sniffing at an enormous yellow frog outside the door. As usual I went out to put it back by the pond.
I picked him up and went carefully round the edge of the (quite small) pond looking for a good rock to plonk him on. I was wearing leather mules and the moss round the edge is rather damp.
The next thing I was aware of was the murky water lapping against my armpits and the slime seeping into the mules, positively sucking at them. The frog was held aloft as if he were a precious jewel that couldn't become wet. Logic had obviously flown at this point.
I was surprised how deep the water was, and the musty smell wasn't doing it for me at all. It was very difficult to get out, a real design fault I have to say, and I was concerned I'd lose a shoe.
After a minor struggle I heaved myself onto the shore and felt the filth draining down the insides of my linen trousers. I got to the back door and realised I couldn't go upstairs with so much debris and water emanating from my body, so...horror of absolutely all horrors...I took off my outer clothes at the door, I hope to goodness the neighbours were otherwise engaged, and legged it to the bathroom for a shower.
No1 shouted 'Why are you only in your pants?' as I went past the living room door. Why indeed? A quick rub down and a load of washing later and I was still laughing like a drain. Only a couple of grazes and a dent in my dignity to show for all the excitement. The frog was fine.
And the thing I'm most proud about...it's the first time I've been for a dip and not got my hair wet. I hate getting my hair wet.