The Fool swims. He’s not particularly proud of it (horrible, common sport, swimming), but it’s what the Doctor ordered. So he swims. The school the Princess attends has a pool, and it’s available for “external users” after-hours. But the children’s teachers remain for us externals, and in the way of children’s teachers they are not content with simply watching one swim and keeping an eye out for drowners. They like to organize “activities” and contests – it stems from their habit of having to keep idle young minds and bodies occupied, I suppose. I have thought of telling them they needn’t bother with us (it’s all the poor Fool and his classmates can do to keep afloat, much less have the sort of idle thoughts that need curtailing), but they seem so happy.
Anyway, in the course of activities and contests, points are attributed and prizes given. And so it has come to pass that the Fool was elected Swimmer of the Year last year. The fact that my classmates – my competition for the Grand Prize – seem to be for the most part natives of landlocked lands who cannot have seen the sea or a pool much before their 40th birthday is neither here nor there. Modest people with much to be modest about – such as the Fool and Mr. Clement Attlee – live for these small triumphs.
1 comment:
Conheço um nadador, a.k.a external user, que, embora o aspecto lhe dê uns anos extra, ainda nem 30 primavera pode contar. Acontece ainda que é frequentador assíduo da praia que dá nome à casa da (ou na) colina. So, neither is he a “sealess” individual nor is he an older fellow….E disse-me, durante uma disputa for the Grand Prize, que o Tolo estava aí para as curvas!
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