Ladies, I’m here to tell you that most swimsuits aren’t designed for natural bodies.
No surprise, huh?
Let’s just say that the new fake ladies look smashing in a swimsuit. Given that they are fake as fake can be (in case you missed the whole BRCA/breast cancer/double mastectomy/salpingoopherectomy/hysterectomy posts: Tall Boots and Big Girl Panties), some clothes don’t fit as well as they used to. There are a few exceptions.
Swimsuits and strapless dresses.
I’ve never been able to wear a strapless dress with much comfort. But, with the fakey McFakesters, the dresses stay up with ease. I should have had some snaps or magnets installed for some very easy accessorizing.
Given the choice, I would have chosen my old real ones over the new fake ones, but I am glad I chose reconstructive surgery. I’m also glad I chose the surgery that I did. One surgeon told me that if I chose this surgery, it wouldn’t look as natural as the result of the more complicated surgery involving back or stomach muscles. Oh well. I’m ok with a little bit of fake-looking if it allows me to get back to doing the things I enjoy.
Pulling back my 45 lb compound bow. Check.
Swinging an adz and digging a trench in the garden.
Picking up and carrying my 50lb kid. Check.
And now I do all of those things while wearing a swimsuit.
Not really. Maybe. No.
My mother-in-law’s family tries to get together every couple of summers for a family reunion. Usually the site of the reunion is down south, as that’s where most of the family has been over the last couple of hundred years. This year we met in Natchez, MS for a few days of story-telling and fun. My husband’s uncle, John, always prepares a genealogical summary of a specific branch of the family and it is presented at the reunion.
Uncle (Professor) John
My husband enjoys all the stories and the recording of said stories.
I, of course, use the opportunity to force sewing and crafting on people. At the last reunion, I coerced people into making quilt squares and then put them together for a small lap quilt. We continued the tradition this year and I have some fabulous squares to work on over the next few months.
Aunt Jeanette and Nancy looking over the last quilt.
It’s always a fun time and hard to say goodbye to everyone. Until the next time….
I have fun memories of picking wild blackberries when I was a kid. We lived down a dirt road that had bushes on either side. We’d comb the banks and come home with our haul and dump it on cold store-brand vanilla ice cream and devour the dish.
After finishing dessert, our mom would yell at us to jump in the bath and not forget the gallon jug of white vinegar. I’d stand in the bath, washing off with vinegar, trying to neutralize the hundreds of chiggers’ bites that I had sustained while wading into the blackberry bushes.
The taste of wild blackberries.
The smell of white vinegar.
Enjoy the 4th.
Don’t lose a finger or an eyebrow, but if you have to lose one, make it the eyebrow.