Week 3 - when in Rome (or Holland)

Week 3
When in Rome…
Feeling a lot better today, colds almost gone and the boys need some time out of the house. My hair is starting to fall out though. Anyway, I thought I would see how the mood takes me on the clothing issue.

I dropped the boys off, got changed and went on down to the pool, with robe, towel and wearing jandals, my pretty ones with the flowers. Swam for half an hour then went in for a steam and a sauna. Not quite throwing caution to the wind, I showered (clothed) next to a 50 something completely naked man. Where do you look when they are a) considerably taller than you and b) facing and talking to you? After my very short shower I ducked around the corner quickly disrobed and ducked into the thankfully empty and very steamy steam room. Strangely liberating really, nowhere to hide (except in the steam), in a public room knowing at any minute a man or woman could walk in on you.

Someone did come in in fact, or more poked his head in saw me, apologised and ducked back out again, strangely saying he would come back later. Was it the same sauna man? It wouldn’t have been so bad because the steam hides all sorts of things, the sauna you are all laid out not knowing where to put your arms/hands, legs up or down, eyes open or closed, lying down or sitting up and if lying down, should you keep your legs down.

I survived the steam and sauna sessions both naked, I even survived another shower with yet another stranger – both naked, very strange indeed.
In my nubile teens and early twenties, I would have gladly and unembarrassed pranced or wandered around going about my business in the nude but with my post baby, c scar, saggy breast fed boobs all just aren’t up to scratch any more. Thankfully, there really is no pressure to look like a magazine model, so far apart from the women’s changing room, the only other naked people I have seen have been 50+ men. No contest there.