It could be 40 degrees and blowing a gale here this weekend but it’s not. I dithered and dathered about whether I should schlep my smartwool leggings up here. I did not bring them and I do not need them. I do need my bathing suit. I could not find it. See yesterday’s blahg. People keep telling me I do not need a bathing suit to swim. Uh, uh, uh, I am not quiiiite convinced that I want to go in there stark bare naked.

Actually, I have skinny dipped a couple of times in my life. Once here on the moominbeach. It was many moons ago and I was a skinny little 20-something and it was pitch black except for the stars and whatever phase the moon was in. A bunch of us young women and girls were out there with Radical Betty (and we always felt safe with Radical Betty). So we were hanging out by the second sand bar and all of a sudden, a MAN’s HEAD was seen slinking along. It was my uncle Duke, Radical Betty’s husband.

We all screamed but then we laughed. It was a joke and he didn’t come anywhere near us nor could he see anything of us besides our heads. We eventually headed back to shore and covered up in our beach towels, grabbed our clothes, and went home to our respective cabins.

The other time I skinny-dipped was on the Huron River and I am not gonna say anything more about that, in part because I only partially remember the experience. I do know that over the years I have kayaked up to that area many many times.

So the beach is wider this weekend than it has been all summer and here is npJane heading down to our cousin-neighbors’ house looking for her flip-flop, which was stolen by the family shoe/sock thief, Mocha. And yes she found it and yes, we love our cousin-neighbors anyway.

G’night, KW

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