Cousin Geoff’s grandparents on his dad’s side owned a huge piece of property in the country with a swimming pool, and the most amazing landscape to explore. Grassy fields gave way to trees, and I don’t think we ever hit the end of the property when we went walking. It simply went on forever. Any time we went there, it was a treat. We spent a few days at the property that summer, swimming and running pretending we were Jedi or superheroes. The house had an amazing “back yard”. There was a steep downwards incline, which you traversed via a series of stairs and landings. To us it was huge! It seemed like you were climbing down a mountain. At the bottom: the swimming pool and all the land you could run through for hours. – Record Store Tales #909
RECORD STORE TALES #939: The Frog in the Pool
The most precious of childhood memories took place around that swimming pool. I remember my grandpa picking me up like I was a rag doll and tossing me into the water. Then I’d swim back and ask him to do it again.
There’s a funny old picture of my grandpa at poolside. I remember that he liked to roll his own cigarettes. I remember the tobacco tins and my mom having to explain to me what he was doing. Well apparently he really loved to do it. In this photo, he obviously packed up all his tobacco and rolling gear, and just sat there at poolside rolling cigarettes! He looks so happy with a huge pile of tobacco in front of him. It strikes me as hilarious that he brought all that stuff with him to spend a day at the pool.
Sergeant Winter reporting for duty.
There’s one notable event that happened at that pool that we don’t have pictures of.
I was really young. Just a few years old. And I must have had to go bad, so I pooped in the pool. I remember the little teeny brown nugget at the bottom of the pool. “Nobody will notice,” I told myself.
Well they noticed a lot sooner than I thought, so I resorted to my “plan B”. I thought the little poop looked like a frog at the bottom of the pool, so that’s what I claimed it was. “Just a frog”. Nobody bought it and somebody got a pool scooper and picked up my poop. I probably denied that it was mine right to the very end. This might actually be my first admission that I pooped in the pool!
No it was not a frog. It was me. I confess.