T minus 24 days.     


A long, long time ago I took a real vacation.  With my husband.  It involved a travel agent, an airplane and  actual suitcases instead of grocery bags.  We went to this amazing resort on the island of Eleuthera in the Bahamas.  It was run by Italians and most of the guests were also Italian.  Great food, good wine and plenty of things to do.  One of the daily activities was a combination dance/aerobics class in the pool.  We all know by now how I feel about water so naturally I avoided this class like the plague.  One day, however, an unfortunately timed nap by the pool placed me in the absolute wrong place at the absolute wrong time.   Sudden loud music wakes me with a start.   Open my eyes to find the instructor of the aforementioned class making a bee line straight for me.  Class is about to begin,  she announces, and I simply had to join them.  Trapped. Shoot.  Absolutely no excuse / no way out.   Make my way to the pool.  Look around, lots of cheery women and even a few speedo-clad old men.  Great.  I'm in the middle of a gorgeous tropical island and instead of sitting at the floating bar having an umbrella drink I'm stuck in a pool with a bunch of loud, water-loving, too- naked Italians.
Class starts and it's all "move to the right," and  "arms up high," and "step to the left."  Loud, dance to the beat music.  Ok, I'm ok.  Not bad.  I can handle this.  I can shake my groove thing with these Italians.  I think I'm even starting to have fun.  "Right arm up." up goes the arm.  "Left arm up."  up goes the other arm. "Two steps right."  hello old man.  "Two steps left." hello other old man.   "Put your hans on your fins."  HUH?  Put my what on my what??  Did she say put my hans on my fins??  "Put your hans on your fins," she repeats.   She did.  She did say put your hans on your fins.  What the heck is she talking about??  Do Italians have fins and I'm now going to be let in on this life-changing secret?  How will I possibly be able to keep it a secret?  I tell everyone everything.  Starting in the second grade when I told Lolly Lucier all about the surprise party her mom was planning for her birthday.  This is too much.  I can't handle it.  Take it back.  Please.  I look pleadingly to my instructor.  Help.  Help me with the fins.  Where, why, how??   I stare at her intently.  She is standing shouting out instructions.   Her hands are placed firmly on her hips. Wait.  Those aren't fins, they're hips.  It slowly dawns on me.  She doesn't mean fins, she means hips.  Put your hands on your hips.   Oh, thank god.  Thank god I don't have to keep the Italian fin people secret any longer.

Slight fin injury has me sidelined tonight.