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On Thin Ice
No, the Blue Pootle hasn’t taken up figure skating. This journal entry is all about that weirdest of elements – water.
Water manifests in many different forms, and I’ve had a bad experience with all of them.
STEAM: I love a sauna. I used to go to Aberystwyth Health Spa while at university. The strange thing is, nobody else did. It was always deserted. I say always – there was one occasion when I came across another person, and that was also the last time I attended that particular sauna.
I was luxuriating away in the hot, woody warmth of the sauna when I was surprised to see the face of a middle aged chap looking through the glass in the door. He came in, wearing his towel around his waist and looking a little sheepish. Well, it was a free country and all; I gave him an encouraging smile and he sat on one of the benches to my right, resting his plates of meat.
He fiddled with his towel. Then he jerked it to one side. Then he whisked the towel from under his bottom and put it to one side.
Yes, he was now exposing part of his anatomy that tends not to get revealed in mixed sex saunas in this country. From what my hurried glimpse in that direction told me, that part of his anatomy was enjoying the experience.
I suppose he must have caught me looking, for he opened his mouth to say something. But, at that moment, three other people came into the sauna – talk about timing – and I took the opportunity to head for the ice cold plunge pool outside.
I’ve always wondered what he was going to say. Is it me or is it hot in here? Pour some water on the coals and let’s get steamy? Are you enjoying the woody warmth as much as I am? But I never did find out. Maybe it’s for the best.
ICE: Ilfracombe, my home town, has a lot of hills. It also gets its fair share of chilly winters. Put the two together and you get a lot of icy patches and bruised bottoms.
I was sixteen, I think, and on the way to a party at a friend’s house. I was rounding the corner of the particularly steep Oxford Grove when I saw Mel Gibson. Mel Gibson, walking up Oxford Grove. Oh yes indeedy. Mel Gibson. I know. I was surprised too.
It appeared my luck was with me. I was wearing my new red dress with a beautiful flared skirt, and a pair of suede high heels. I was also wearing a pair of green vine-pattern tights, but hey, it was the eighties. I reached up to check my hair was in place, and that was when the ice got me.
The heel of my shoe hit a slippery patch. Both balance and dignity deserted me. I landed with a wallop on my bottom and slid a good ten yards with my beautiful flared skirt up over my head to come to a halt at Mel Gibson’s feet.
Mel Gibson (concerned): Are you okay? Blue Pootle (removing skirt from head): Fine! Yes! Fine! Mel Gibson (holding out hand): That looked painful. Blue Pootle (taking hand): No! Not at all! No! Mel Gibson (helping BP up): Good. Well, bye. Blue Pootle (blushing): Yes! Thanks! Yes!!
A brief encounter. The plus to all this was, if I hadn’t fallen over, I would never have got to talk to Mel Gibson. The minus was, talking to him revealed that he wasn’t Mel Gibson. Not unless Mel Gibson had developed a West Country accent and a speech impediment.
DROPS: Yeah, well, to cut this one short, I was seven, I was in the shower, I fell over, I knocked myself out, Dad had to break the door down, I went to hospital, had some stitches, nothing serious, have developed the nervous habit of always sitting in the bottom of the shower as a result.
To be honest, I think it traumatised my brother more than it did me. In the ensuing panic, my parents hopped into the car and whisked me off to casualty before telling him what had happened. So, ten minutes later, he decided he needed a wee and wandered into the bathroom to be confronted by a door hanging off its hinges, a broken shower, and a floor covered in blood. Poor bloke: I think it affected his personality somewhat.
Word of the Day: Exossate. To cause fruits to grow without stones.
Go here to provide the Pootle with feedback, share your own misadventures with water, talk about her new novel, Three Things About Me, or simply to say hi.
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