In search of a cossie.

I’ve been out this morning in search of a new swimming costume. My old one is far too big for me now, and I am determined to go swimming during this years holiday. If you remember last years holiday, the one where we endured a week in a mobile home that was shaking in gale force winds and driving rain,  I had to sit at the side of the pool jealously watching Kerri swimming back and forth in an enticing looking pool that she enjoyed all by herself. (every other camper had obviously been blown away in the gale force winds.)

K has a swim alone

I had to forgo my daily swim because I was on chemo at the time and also giving myself those Clexane injections into my tummy. This time I plan to make up for last years omission and enjoy a swim every morning as soon as the camp pool is open!  I finally chose a cossie with ‘stomach control’ (whatever that means) and of course I’ve had to purchase one for you know who as well despite the fact that her old costume is perfectly presentable and still fits her perfectly. Can’t have anything on my own, can I?

On the journey home and as is usual with the buses that run our particular route, the heat was issuing forth from the heaters but thankfully other passengers had taken the trouble to open all the windows (well, the few that were available to open that is) so we were all spared the humiliation of melting. I did consider being controversial and marching up the aisle to ask the driver if he would break with tradition and turn the heating off, you know, kid himself along that it was still winter, but then I decided that as he looked to be quite a burly surly sort of chap (hand picked for our route obviously) I decided that it was probably wiser to suffer and sweat it out.

I did become concerned though that maybe I didn’t smell too nice when the man who was forced to sit next to me as there was no more room anywhere else, proceeded to sit as far away from me as he possibly could without actually falling off the seat into the aisle, and then later to add insult to injury, as soon as a seat became vacant he dashed to it as if the hounds of hell were after him.  Not only that, but the lady and her husband who were occupying the seats directly in front of me also moved further down the bus as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Hmm. Perhaps I should get into the habit of carting my deodorant around with me on my bus journeys in future!

I did note as I alighted from the bus that the driver was keeping nice and cool in his shirt with sleeves rolled up as far as his bulging biceps would allow.

“Thank you!’ I said as I stepped off the bus, still silently tempted to add ‘and can you turn the heating off please, or will you risk getting the sack?’ but I resisted temptation.  As is usual with all our drivers who are unlucky enough to be allocated our route, he didn’t reply. Not even a grunt. I might have spied a bit of a smirk though.

TG

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