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SpringPeeper of Bloom
Jun. 2nd, 2024 10:32 pmThe water report: Friday, lapis lazuli, the deepest darkest blue; Saturday, aquamarine and silver; today, pewter under a hazy sky. At all times, ice cold. Friday, I plunged in, and then out, and was mildly hypothermic the rest of the day. Yesterday, I didn't try because it started raining. Today, I thought I'd give it another shot. Waded in: still made my bones ache. Eventually I dove in, figuring oh well, it can't be worse than the last time. BRR. Yes, I was able to swim a few strokes, so that was an improvement. I dove in twice more and swam a little farther each time. I actually found a zone where the water felt kind of "warm," haha. Not in an absolute sense, but relatively. I was enjoying myself, sort of? But decided to come out fairly soon because my extremities were turning scarlet and getting slightly numb, and I didn't want to court hypothermia again. There wasn't a stiff breeze today, either, which made it possible to stand in the sun and dry out a bit without getting more chilled.
We continue to make adjustments. We made it to church this morning, and then quickly packed up and stopped by the book store for coffee and pastries (alas no delicious turnovers this morning) and took them out to the river. We discussed our options. The Sparrowhawk just didn't feel very walkish, so we decided to spend some time on the beach and then rethink walking. There were few people on the beach, so we were able to find a good spot without walking very far through the sand. While I was testing the water, the Sparrowhawk relaxed in his folding chair. When I came out, I noticed that he had a sarong and a towel spread over himself. I was surprised that he was cold, because I was still invigorated by being dunked in ice water, and had lost all sense of thermic reality. I made him put on my wool sweater, which I had brought in case of a chill. Then I walked back to the car and returned with his flannel shirt and fleece jacket, which he'd left in the car, and the car blanket, which being a good daughter of the North, I always carry, even if it is theoretically summer. Michigan taught me this. Kansas taught me always to bring water, even if you think you're not thirsty, and Texas taught me always to have a hat. I let him keep the sweater, since he had already warmed it up, but draped the flannel shirt over his shoulders and wrapped him in the wool blanket. In a few minutes he got warm enough to nap. I sat in the sun with the jacket on. No hypothermia this time.
After the nap, the Sparrowhawk declared himself refreshed and full of energy. He was walking like a champ, and looked amusingly preppy in his Tilley hat, pink polo shirt, swimshorts, and my red sweater. The swimshorts were superfluous, as he declared his intention of going nowhere near that cold, cold water. We considered a possible stroll, but it was already getting late. By the time we had everything packed up and back to the car, it was close to six, and we decided to go out for dinner instead. It was very successful. I had what I consider restorative foods: a Manhattan and a steak, accompanied by brussels sprouts and au gratin potatoes. He had an enormous hamburger and a nice simple dark stout that didn't taste like peaches and cream or mango salsa or anything. It was a successful day, though not quite as predicted.
We continue to make adjustments. We made it to church this morning, and then quickly packed up and stopped by the book store for coffee and pastries (alas no delicious turnovers this morning) and took them out to the river. We discussed our options. The Sparrowhawk just didn't feel very walkish, so we decided to spend some time on the beach and then rethink walking. There were few people on the beach, so we were able to find a good spot without walking very far through the sand. While I was testing the water, the Sparrowhawk relaxed in his folding chair. When I came out, I noticed that he had a sarong and a towel spread over himself. I was surprised that he was cold, because I was still invigorated by being dunked in ice water, and had lost all sense of thermic reality. I made him put on my wool sweater, which I had brought in case of a chill. Then I walked back to the car and returned with his flannel shirt and fleece jacket, which he'd left in the car, and the car blanket, which being a good daughter of the North, I always carry, even if it is theoretically summer. Michigan taught me this. Kansas taught me always to bring water, even if you think you're not thirsty, and Texas taught me always to have a hat. I let him keep the sweater, since he had already warmed it up, but draped the flannel shirt over his shoulders and wrapped him in the wool blanket. In a few minutes he got warm enough to nap. I sat in the sun with the jacket on. No hypothermia this time.
After the nap, the Sparrowhawk declared himself refreshed and full of energy. He was walking like a champ, and looked amusingly preppy in his Tilley hat, pink polo shirt, swimshorts, and my red sweater. The swimshorts were superfluous, as he declared his intention of going nowhere near that cold, cold water. We considered a possible stroll, but it was already getting late. By the time we had everything packed up and back to the car, it was close to six, and we decided to go out for dinner instead. It was very successful. I had what I consider restorative foods: a Manhattan and a steak, accompanied by brussels sprouts and au gratin potatoes. He had an enormous hamburger and a nice simple dark stout that didn't taste like peaches and cream or mango salsa or anything. It was a successful day, though not quite as predicted.
