The Deep End

Early Morning Lap Swimming at the city pool has long been one of my favorite things about summer vacation.

 Last year, back when I was young and foolish, I did have a bit of a fling with Water Aerobics. I was lured away from the peaceful sunrise swims by the catchy music and flashy Zumba moves. Lucky for me, Early Morning Lap Swimming took me back this June with no questions and no judgments.

Of course, at 6 freakin' a.m., it's not like Early Morning Lap Swimming can be real picky. Not many people are willing to jump in a cold pool at that time of almost-day, so really Early Morning Lap Swimming pretty much has to take what it can get.

Can I just take a second at this point in the post to draw attention to my official "Season Pass" for the city pool? Card stock and Sharpie: classy, right?

This was my fourth year purchasing a season pass, but this is the first time I actually received a card. Since I have know/have taught all but two of the pool staffers, I usually just waved at the kidet setting out the deck chairs while trying not to wake the one snoozing with his or her head on the front counter. 

I love making the three minute walk from my cute little hobbit home to the pool. I can see the pool lights when I get to the corner, and smell the chlorine as soon as I cross the street. 

I have had many swimming buddies over the years, but the constants have been Elizabeth and Pam. Elizabeth moved to Vegas a few weeks ago, so Pam and I had the pool to ourselves for the last month.

You remember Pam, right? She designed our awesome stake display booth for the fair this year. 

Pam always arrives at the pool early so she can get her serious exercising done before I show up and distract her. My pool routine consists of equal parts swimming and visiting. It's kind of like my extremely early morning walking with Diane: group therapy with a side of exercise. 

Early Morning Lap Swimming is awesome all summer long, but it is at its best in August. 

The cold water is a heavenly contrast to the hot summer air, and there is something really cool about swimming under the stars before the sun comes up.

And while watching the sunrise anywhere is good for the soul, there is something special about watching the sky brighten while swimming. 

If you ever get the chance, you should jump at the opportunity to watch the sunrise while bobbing around in a pool and visiting with good friends. 

I highly recommend it. 

Of course, the problem with an outdoor pool staffed by kidlets is that when summer ends, so does the swimming. So last week I climbed up this ladder for the last time until next June. 

Friday I stepped out of the pool and then on Monday morning...

... I jumped right into the deep end.  

Cannon Ball!

An Open Letter To The Very Nice Young Man Who Teaches Swimming Lessons Next To My Aqua-Zumba Class

***Note to the Reader: The photos used in this swimming-pool/swim-lesson oriented post have been harvested from the Internet because 1)Cameras often develop issues after spending time in a splash-heavy environment and 2)My camera and I don't want to end up being discussed by Nancy Grace and her panel of "experts" on HLN.***

Dear Very Nice Young Man who teaches swimming lessons to a group of what appear to be nine-year-old boys in the part of the pool that is immediately adjacent to the part of the pool where my Aqua-Zumba class meets,

I would like to start out by congratulating you on a successful first week of swimming lessons with this particular group of Stetsons and Harleys (For those of you who don't spend much time at our local pool, it  appears that every boy in every swimming class, along with a significant number of the teachers, are all named either Stetson or Harley. FYI, the girls are all named Jacobi).  I believe that your lessons have qualified as "successful" for two main reasons.

First, only a minimum of nervous sobbing could be heard from your part of the deep-end (Truth be told, much more sobbing was taking place in the Aqua-Zumba section... especially during the body-roll part in that third song. That can be sooooooo upsetting).

Second, the only paramedics present were there to cheer on their own kids in the class and not to resuscitate anyone. And while we are on this particular topic I would like to point out that, while some of the older ladies in Aqua-Zumba find the presence of the ambulance in the pool parking lot to be a comforting thing, I personally have found it to be somewhat unsettling. Foreboding, even. But moving on...

Our actual town swimming pool where I have spent my summer mornings for the last three and a half years.

So, nice work on the limited crying and total lack of drownings. But since I have been spending a good amount of time kicking and splashing and (insert sound of sobbing here) body-rolling in close proximity to your Harleys and Stetsons, I couldn't help but notice that you have having a difficult time getting the boys to learn different swim strokes.

A visual approximation of the Aqua-Zumba class that I started attending this month with my friend and visiting teacher, Stephanie. I am still waiting for you to join us, Valerie and Elizabeth!)

Now, I am in no way claiming to be an expert in the teaching of swimming, but as a sister of four brothers and the aunt of five nephews, I do know a little bit about apparently-nine-year-old-boys.

I think your problem is the way you are presenting the choice of strokes to your students.

I know that you are getting frustrated with their insistence on choosing to practice the backstroke over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

But really, what do you expect them to choose when presented with the other two options  that you give them along with the backstroke: the butterfly and the breaststroke.

A visual approximation of Harley and/or Stetson.

Of course they are going to say, "Backstroke!" every time.

What self-respecting nine-year-old boy is going to request, in front of his peers, to learn the butterfly? These are boys named Harley and Stetson. Some of them have been driving tractors  and hay trucks for two years. Most own some sort of firearm and have in fact used said firearm to shoot and kill several furry and/or feathered critters. Do you really think one of them is going to raise his hand and say, "Please, Mr. Swim Instructor sir, I implore you to tutor us in the ways of the graceful butterfly stroke," ?

Sorry guy, it is never going to happen.

You can always tell them that is what they are going to learn, and they will do it. But if you give it to them as a choice along side the backstroke, they will chose the backstroke every time.

If you want them to chose that particular stoke, I suggest renaming it. Try something like, The Blood-thirsty Pterodactyl Super Swoop Stoke of Death.

"Good morning Stetson, Stetson, Harley, Harley, and Harley. Today you can pick between practicing the backstroke or The Blood-thirsty Pterodactyl Super Swoop Stoke of Death. Which shall it be?"

I think you know what the answer.

You have the same type of problem with the other choice that you offer: the breast stroke.

I can pretty much guarantee you that the phrase "breast stroke" is never going to be uttered by any of those nine-year-old boys. At least, not while they are in a public area where their older brothers, their parents, a few off-duty paramedics, and 18 little girls named Jacobi could possibly hear them.


"Stetson! Did you hear what the swimming teacher just said? Hurry! Somebody chose 'backstroke' before he says it again and I have to drown myself in embarrassment!"


One or two of them might get up the courage to whisper it at day camp when their den leader is out of earshot being treated for heat exhaustion, but then it will be out of a desire to get a bigger laugh than the kid who told the snot joke and not for educational purposes.

Of course, once those same boys hit the 8th grade, you won't be able to stop them from saying it. A creative few may even use that phrase as their chosen name for their new hunting dogs, but then they will no longer be your problem.

They will be my problem.

I can see the haiku and shape poems now...

So in closing, I would like to pass on this piece of advice: If you are going to give a group of nine-year-old boys a choice between practicing the backstroke, the butterfly, and the breaststroke, and you DON'T want them to chose the backstroke every single time, RENAME THE OTHER STROKES.

Seriously. These are the same kids who routinely put their swim trunks on backwards. I don't think they are going to figure out that you pulled a name switch-a-roo on them.

Sincerely,
Miss H

Recipe For a Perfect Summer Week

To create deliciously perfect week, begin with a base of sweet visiting nieces. For an extra splash of flavor, coat visiting nieces in playground sand and dog slobber.

Next, add four 6:30 - 7:30 am lap swimming sessions. Then let the nieces and lap swimming simmer for a few moments while you read a swimming-related tangent.

(the photo below is a visual approximation of Elizabeth, Emily, Krystal, and I's morning lap swimming sessions. In case you couldn't tell, we totally ROCK that pool.)

Swimming-Related Tangent: This is a photo of Krystal and I in our beautiful swim caps.

In our minds, our swim caps make us look like this...

Unfortunately, the looks the swim team kids shoot us would indicate that our swim caps make us look more like this....

But we don't care. Snarky swim team kids be darned. Viva La Swim Caps, baby! (Elizabeth and Emily, yours are in the mail) Swimming-Related Tangent Concluded.

Next, stir in a full day of branch reunions, eating out, and shopping in Twin Falls. Be sure to add a full measure of fabulous Krystal...

...at least one darling Emily...

... and just a dash of Lisa. But not too much. She's addictive.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: We Interrupt This Blog Post For A Public Service Announcement. Attention Magic Valley Residents: Please be advised that, despite the wretched, soul-crushing construction mess currently plaguing Overland Ave., the Church Distribution Center is still open. Please do your part to alleviate the mind-numbing boredom of the Distribution employees (such as my dear pal Krystal) and volunteers (such as my wonderful cousin Sandy) by stopping by and visiting them. Or, at very least, writing the city council to request better looking construction workers for them to gaze at for the rest of the summer. Thank You. THIS HAS BEEN A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED BLOG.

Next, gently fold in three days at the temple. You will need at least two endowment sessions...

...and one sealing for a beautiful former brancher (We love you, Yamammy!) and her cute hubby.

After the temple trips have been well incorporated, add three lunches and/or dinners with at least one couple from the former branch presidency. WARNING: Try not to fall on your backside in the restaurant while posing for photos and wearing a skirt. The resulting embarrassment won't damage the overall result, but the intense blushing could cause some unsightly scorch marks. (For more details about the dangers of this type of behaviour, please refer to the Jones family blog to view the photographic evidence)

Throw in a wonderful evening at the multicultural reception of the century (more on that fun-filled evening in a future, stake-president-centered post) and mix well.

For some extra international flavor, mix in a few minutes on the temple grounds with Elizabeth and her handsome hubby Ratha.

Spread this delicious mixture across five days time, then bake at 65 degrees, or another appropriate "June in Idaho" temperature.

Before serving, frost the week with a branch conference at the best branch on the face of the earth, and don't forget to add a smiling Kristi right on top. Then dig in and enjoy, savoring every moment.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go wash the water-logged bugs out of the petals on my swim cap so I will be ready to traumatize more swimteamers tomorrow.

Have a great week!