1st September 2008

It's September already: the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. Only here, the temperature is warm, so we're still swimming every day. Our pool is one of those called demi-enterre , half in the ground and half out. The main advantage of this, other than it being cheaper, is that we don't apparently have to instal expensive security fences and alarms which are required by law in France for fully-inground pools. As I laze on my back in my new swimming shorts and tankini top - great for hiding the vagaries of ancient bikini-lines and crepey legs - I suddenly puzzle over why H seems to have fixed a large white security label, the sort with urgent red letters and exclamation marks, right underneath the waterline where you can't read it. I shout out my question to him indoors.
'It's because that was the only place it would stick to the liner without coming off.'
'Oh,' said I, puzzled.
I decided to dive underneath the water to read what it said.
'No Diving!'
For goodness sake.