A woman friend comes to my house for tea and company.
She bakes and brings fresh scones with strawberry jam and clobbered cream. The scones are flat when they should be fluffy. They look like flat, pale cookies.
My friend complains her scones are a failure, but in fact they are delicious. In my mind I call them ‘Sccookies’. The word Scone with Cookies. Very cleaver of me.
Maybe we can bake and build a Twinkies kind of mega-corporation off my friend’s Sccookies? Maybe we can become rich and pudgy off our own brilliance?
No, we are not drinking.
My friend wants to swim in my pool in her underpants and tee shirt.
“Good idea,” I say, about the swimming in panties.
I want to swim, too so I run in the house, put on a hot pink sports bra and pull on a pair of neon green nylon shorts. Pulling those shorts up and on is hard work. I have gained weight since last summer.
Finally, the shorts are up, but eeeh gads, they are inside out! They look even worse than they might if they were on proper.
However, they are too much trouble to peel down and re-do as they are so tight I will never get them off. I will have to wear them inside out.
I usually swim naked. I know you know that.
I am always getting into unexpected trouble while naked in the pool. There was that time I heard my old, deaf pool man coming through my iron gate and I banged out of the water so fast that I had to go and see a chiropractor for a twisted back. (more…)