I have always been a strong swimmer, and in my younger days took every opportunity to frequent every pond and pool I could. However, in recent years I have developed a case of public swimming phobia. Two bad knees, lack of proper exercise, and general “retirementitis” have left me, shall I say, not a bathing beauty. Each time we  go away, Steve uses the pool, and I reluctantly hang back, letting my phobia get the best of me. I have kept my old lady black and white polka dotted swim dress in the recesses of my going away bag forever, never even reaching down there to pull it into the light of day. This morning as Steve headed for the pool, I decided today was the day.  Not even sure if the damn swim dress would even still fit, I cautiously unzipped the  bag. There it was, coiled like a venomous snake, daring me to stick my hand in and pull it out. A few minutes later, and with a little spandex wrangling I realized, much to my surprise, it fit! I donned a tee shirt and sweat pants for cover, and made my way to the pool. Calculating the time it would take me to disrobe and be completely submerged, I took the plunge. It was great. Newly confident, being in water up to my shoulders, I looked around and realized I had nothing to fear. People around the pool were every shape and size.  And none of them seemed the least bit interested in me in my old lady black and white polka dotted swimdress.