My First Swim

I finally worked up the courage yesterday afternoon to take a swim. It was a balmy 78 with abundant sunshine with very little wind. Lucy had already taken her maiden voyage to fetch her frisbee. I had run out of excuses. Since Pam was down in Portland picking up her parents at the airport, I had the added benefit of no human witnesses, so if I screamed like a child no one would be there to hear it.

Many people, including several Mainers had told me that since we were going up in September, although it might be a bit cooler out, at least the lake temperature would be warmer, having spent all summer basking in the warm sun. 

There was no basking. The sun must have been hiding behind clouds all summer. Quantabacook could do with a heaping helping of global warming. I jumped in around 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I jumped out around 3:02.

Lest you think I am some sort of southern wimp, I have been coming up here for over 35 years now and each year have spent many a day swimming in lakes. And yes, it has always been cold. In fairness, the first swim is always the worst, it generally gets easier each day. The body does build up a tolerance. But, holy cow! 

Maybe it's no colder than any other lake in any other year. Maybe it's just my 59 year old body tying to tell me that this sort of tomfoolery was all well and good when I was a young father with little children, but now that I'm older and have no logical reason to jump in ice cold water, it's simply unacceptable.

My inlaws made it to Loon Landing safe and sound. They made it just in time to watch the sun set from the back deck. Then we had a dinner of Italian sandwiches from the Fraternity General Store up the road which is sort of a White family tradition. After dinner, we got them both settled into their accommodations up on the hill behind our cottage. They will spend a week here with us.

It's a strange feeling. Life has a way of coming full circle. If I had never met Pam, I would never have come to Maine. In the early years of our marriage, when we were struggling a bit financially, Russ always paid for our site rental whenever we came up for summer vacation. He never wanted to take any money from me for my share of the grocery bill. It was the cheapest vacation you could imagine. All we had to do was show up. Once Pam became a full time, stay at home Mom, it was the only vacation we could afford.

Now, I get to return the favor. 

Of course, that doesn't mean my father in law gets a total free pass. I have a chore list a mile long and growing for him to get busy on while he's here. He will have to build the fires at night, including any requisite wood chopping. Oh, and if I smell red flannel hash anywhere on the property...he's OUT!!!