Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

 For the last few months, I've been taking advantage of DC's fabulous indoor pools [putting on sunscreen is too time-consuming] to exercise. It did not take me (or the lifeguards, for that matter) long to figure out that I was often THE slowest swimmer out there, or that I was swimming unconventionally. Those two might actually be related. I don't think I have a single normal stroke to get me across the pool. When I do my version of the backstroke, I keep my arms underwater and pull them from shoulder-height to hip height--basically like flapping my arms to fly. And contrary to what one might think for a fairly-inexperienced swimmer, I do not doggie-paddle--mainly because I dislike the strain it puts on my neck (but also because when I swim on my stomach like that, it feels like pressure from the water is preventing full lung expansion) .  It should be fairly easy to pick me out from all the other swimmers in their respective lanes, because I am the only one without goggles

 When Mark and I visited my parents, we took a boat trip in the nearby water-- water which was "fine" in the "Frigid as Ice and Nearly as Excruciating" sense. My face in reaction to the temperature of the water To be fair, it only felt "fine" for the first 5 minutes or so. After that, the experience kind-of overwhelmed my senses. Also, I was concentrating on getting up on a wakesurf board. My brother giving me a pep talk before I went in Eventually I succeeded, but in the meantime Mark enjoyed taking pictures of my efforts. Me actually up! Oh well. I returned the favor.

 It's amazing how golf, as a concept, can be applied to other sport objects. Miniature golf wasn't much of a stretch, but frisbee golf and soccer golf certainly are creative takes on the game. [left to right] Julie, Dave, Ericka, Russell, Mark When Mark and I visited family in Utah right after our Idaho family visit, one of the first things we did--both with his brother's family and with my parents--was a golf alternative. As I've mentioned before, I am not very athletically coordinated. Before every kick in the soccer golf course, I had a brief moment of panic as I tried to figure out what foot to use (they're about the same in strength and accuracy [aka terrible] , so it doesn't particularly matter). One of the holes required crossing a little stream, and of course my ball went right for the water. After I rescued my ball and prepared for a second kick right at the edge of where I had gone in, I heard my sister-in-law tell one of my nephews that he needed to k