I didn't learn to swim until I was 40. I mentioned in a previous blog that when I was chair of governors at Hethersett Middle School (now Hethersett Junior) I fought hard to keep the swimming pool when it was under threat due to needing costly repairs.
I fought hard because it was the pool in which hundreds (if not thousands) of youngsters had learned to swim (including my two sons).
That pool meant a lot to me as long as I didn't have to go into the water. Then two things happened. My other threequarters bought me a series of swimming lessons at a school fundraising auction and I had a wager with the Head that I would learn to swim if he gave up smoking. The wager was £20 to be given to a charity of the winner's choice.
So very reluctantly I went along for my one to one swimming lessons with the swimming teacher who just happened to be a friend of ours. Working on the assumption that as chair of governors I was technically her boss, I thought she would go easy on me.
So there I was a 40 year old man wearing swimming rings and armbands. I must have looked a right prat. But it worked. I had always said that the day I could put my head under the water would be the day I could swim.
Suddenly I realised that if I had no armbands on and pushed off from the side I actually floated and didn't sink and I wasn't going to drown.
Jane not only had me ducking under the water, she had me sitting on the bottom. And I did learn to swim because after the one to one lessons I joined an adult beginners' group and found other people as nervous as me.
Every Thursday evening we went for a one hour session which was quite pleasant as there were a number of interesting sounds coming from a couple of points in the village. The Norwich pipe band were practising their bagpipes in the nearby Hethersett High School and the bellringers were practising their bellringing at the church. All these sounds combined to make the swimming lessons enjoyable. But the main enjoyment came from being with like-minded people, all of whom thought they would never be able to swim but actually found out that they could.
I will tell you a little more about my swimming journey in a couple of days' time.
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Now here's a question when did no problem become no worries? Probably around the same time that ok became perfect!
I talk about young people serving in restaurants and cafes or if somebody steps aside to let you pass on a path or in a supermarket. When you thank them they used to say "you're welcome" or "no problem" as if there had actually been one. Now they say "no worries" as if you would (worry that is).
Then when you order (and this applies to whatever you order whether it be a coffee or a three course meal) they say "perfect". Not sure whether this is a comment on the manner in which you have ordered, on the food you have ordered or on their ability to serve you.