I laughed so hard that the chickadee birds on a nearby tree stopped twittering, the two eating at the feeder flew away, and a chipmunk racing along the pool deck stopped so suddenly, it nearly fell into the water.
It was early evening and I was in the warm water of our backyard pool, doing a version of swimming. “Warm” at 88 degrees, which my husband calls “a hot bath”. And “swimming”, though not what anyone would recognize as such. I always hold on to a foam ‘noodle’.
I know I may be overdoing the precaution, but the trusty noodle calms my fears of drowning by keeping me afloat when my damaged limbs fail.
My left leg does almost all the lower-body work. But I feel so light and free in the warm water that the discovery that my right leg is not moving is always a surprise. What I always remember is the sudden stab of pain in my left shoulder that will almost knock me out. These are long-term injuries from a car accident of more than a decade ago.
This early-evening ‘swim’ was my last time in the pool before we closed it down for the winter, and I was already missing it. The warm water, the low-stress exercise and the sights and sounds of the natural world were a balm for my body. Sometimes, I just stopped moving, floating along with the clouds above.
And that’s when the memory surfaced, making me laugh out loud.
I was at a mineral bath in the Caribbean.
This trip was yet another costly “therapy”. But my hopes were high – or as high as they could be after years of disappointment.
I hadn’t given up the search for magic elixirs offering instant healing.
My sister, my ‘guardian’ on this trip, was the first to notice the sign limiting visitors to only 15 minutes in the water each time.
That’s when I realized that, to get full benefit, most people would arrange to stay for a few days. The facility is, after all, a positively-reviewed “Hotel and Spa”.
We’d already made another crucial mistake. We had foolishly taken a ‘quicker’ route over what turned out to be storm-damaged back roads with potholes as big as bathtubs. By the time we arrived at the baths, even my sister (who wasn’t recovering from an accident) was groaning.
Still, the place was clean, the service competent, and we were, after all, privileged to be here — at a facility that we had both heard about since childhood and read about in books. For more than a century, these baths have been famous, their healing benefits acclaimed.
We changed into bathing suits and sank into the warm mineral water, determined to eke every ounce of benefit from our 15 minutes.
Then, by tacit agreement, we stretched the time out, sure someone would turf us out at any moment.
At 20 minutes, we reluctantly got out, showered, toweled off, dressed and got back in the car, smiling as we started the journey back to the place where we were staying.
That’s when we discovered that even the ‘good roads’ had been damaged by the storm. The potholes weren’t bathtub-sized, but numerous.
I returned home to Canada hobbling, wincing, groaning and swearing — in worse shape than when I left.
The sheer irony of it all, I thought, as I floated in my backyard pool, laughter bursting out of my body.
Of course, our pool has its limits — it’s closed now until May next year. But in those five warm Canadian months — without a 15-minute limit, without the pain and expense of travelling on airplanes and storm-ravaged roads — the warm water of my pool is excellent therapy. Right here in my own backyard.
34 thoughts on “In My Own Backyard”
Sounds lovely. Wish I had seen the chipmunk almost fall in the water. Sounds like a hoot.
Sometimes what you need is in your own backyard.
We have several squirrels that are part of our live entertainment. They think they own the bird feeder which we can see through our kitchen window. Each has his/her own technique for getting at the food.
You made me grin!
Floating in a warm pool an enjoying the clouds float overhead sounds lovely, Cynthia! Yes, often what is best for us is right in our own backyard. 🙂
I watched some beautiful sunsets here recently, marveling at the saturated colors left behind as the sun continued to run westward below the horizon. The growing crescent moon is now visible in the west. These things, among many, also bring me joy, and I feel a sense of wonder at what is much greater than ourselves.
Keep laughing, and keeping those chipmunks and birds on their toes. 🙂
Right in your own backyard! Proves my maxim: Home is best. 😉
How wonderful to have a pool in your backyard Cynthia! I enjoy and appreciate your storytelling, often at your own expense. Humor is good medicine. 😍
Bet I know where you had that brief salubrious insufficient interlude after bone crushing bathtub sized pothole.
Laughter is the best medicine and how lovely to remember while in your own pool, in your own backyard. I joined in too.
Hah! I’m not saying!!
Your own pool and back yard seem to be quite lovely! How wonderful to have such a lovely place to help you heal, right in your own back garden! 🙂
You’re very lucky to have it and I’m glad it does you some good! I’ve always liked swimming too.
Laughing hard enough to startle the woodland creatures is a sustaining moment. Your backyard pool sounds rejuvenating.
It is. And to think we never wanted a pool!
I hear they’re a lot of work.
For my poor husband – when he opens the pool and closes it, especially. He gets no help from me, the sloth.
That sounds so nice, Cynthia. Beautiful yard and pool! We too have been swimming this summer and I use a noodle too! Hope the healing continues.
I’m so glad to hear you use a noodle too! I feel less clumsy about it now. thanks for visiting, Carla. Stay safe and well.
Hurrah for water and swimming in any form (noodle-assisted and otherwise)! And hurrah for humor!
Indeed , why to search far away what is in our backyard , Cynthia ? 🙂
It is good that you can laugh over this
Sounds like your pool is perfect for you, Cynthia. So often we forget the beauty of our own backyard. A bird feeder is located within easy viewing of my writing chair. Endless amusement. Thanks for the reminder. –Curt
“There’s no place like home.” 🙂
I’ve always dreamed of having a pool, but it’s not something common over here probably due to our weather! I’m glad that you’ve found it helpful over these recent months.
Thanks, Andrea. Many people don’t want pools, so they usually add no value to the pricing of properties here. I never wanted one either, but this house was affordable and in a lovely neighborhood, so we took it. Now, I am thankful that it contributes to healing.
What a lovely pool Cynthia …how wonderful to have one at home!
I didn’t want a pool but it’s a blessing, Julie. I hope you’re doing well.
I am thanks Cynthia 🙂
Sometimes it’s those things you don’t want or need but seem to acquire that end up being the things you just can’t do without. I can’t imagine anything nicer than being somewhere warm and relaxing in my own garden. I don’t swim at all but maybe, if I had my own pool I just might pluck up the courage to go in the water!
Yes, Clare. Good point. I’m not usually a pool person, but being at the rehabilitation hospital in earlier years showed me that regular exercise in a warm pool is helpful. Plus, I swear less!
Haha! A definite benefit then!