Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Diary: January 1, 2014

New year’s day was fun: we the bunch of youths from our church herded ourselves first to a swimming pool and later to a feast hosted at home by yours truly. The swimming pool was not part of the plan at all – the feast began the day, with breakfast, at which time the idea of touring the world on foot popped up. We were supposed to go sightseeing, with soft-beverage-drinking optional. But once a pool came in sight there was a sudden epidemic of highly infectious impulse swimming amongst us. That marked the end of our “touring the world”, unless the world fits in the span between shallow end and deep end, in which case we toured the world thoroughly.

We swam and/or splashed about all day, only remembering our feast late in the day mostly because of roaring appetites born of swimming pool exertions. Now I was the host, having masterminded the whole thing, but I’m not socially adept, nor even a good host. Fortunately I had help from mum, bro and sis. Also fortunately, I was not required to make a speech. However my invitation urging all present to “feel at home and start eating” induced some laughter. As far as I could see, even if many still had a little swimming pool water in their ear canals, they were having a blast. Therefore I the host quickly sunk under the radar, as I am wont to do given half a chance. Eventually, at twilight, our youthful guests dispersed in high spirits after emphatic spiritual exhortations from my mother.

As for me, tired plus satisfied equals drowsy. Twilight found me half-smiling, half-dozing contentedly on the couch, passively listening to the initial chords of a nocturnal symphony of crickets and frogs.


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