Keep Learning! – by Sheila

Stew and I are both keen members of Canterbury U3A – The University of the Third Age.  For those not familiar with U3A, it is an organisation for “older people”, which arranges classes and interest groups about all manner of things, mainly during the winter months.  It is run on a voluntary basis, and costs very little as none of the teachers are paid and a fair bit of the teaching takes place in people’s houses, village halls or even pubs.  There are close to 2,000 members in our area, who form themselves into hundreds of interest groups.  Stew has generally attended classes about erudite subjects, particularly historical ones.  He has also taught one about the Wars of the Roses for the last couple of years.  My choice of subject is much less serious.  I am not very good at sitting still in “talk and chalk” type classes, although I did happily survive Conversational French in the last academic year – see the blog of 2nd May.  My absolutely favourite class is Patchwork and Quilting: I have attended it for about seven years, I think, and have learned something new from the two wonderful teachers at every class.

U3A Patchwork and Quilting Class showing off their handiwork
U3A Patchwork and Quilting Class showing off their handiwork

This year, I have agreed to co-ordinate the U3A sea swimming group during the summer months.  We are really just a collection of people who turn up about once a week for a dip in the sea and a blether together.  I love swimming in the sea, however I am not strong minded enough to take myself in alone, but being part of a group of oldies is just great.  We had our first meet up in my caravan recently, followed by a swim.  We all had to get out our diaries and tide tables to sort out dates for the next couple of months.  Everyone seems quite happy to swim near my caravan, but the downside of that is that because it is so flat around there, it is only possible to swim at high tide – hence the need for tide tables.  At low tide, you could walk for half an hour towards the sea, and it would still only be ankle deep.  We have therefore arranged a couple of swims further along the coast at locations less dependant on the tide.

My mother with Leslie and I in my grandparents' pool
My mother with Leslie and I in my grandparents’ pool

My first swimming experience was in the swimming pool which my grandparents had in their garden, when I was a very small child.  Of course, the water was freezing – it was in Scotland and the pool wasn’t heated – but I remember loving it, and thoroughly enjoyed splashing about with cousins and aunts.  Sadly, as they got older, my grandparents became very anxious about the pool, and by the time I started school, they had mothballed it.  They covered it over with wire netting so no-one could use it.  So then my sister Leslie and I attended the local public baths for swimming lessons.  We had individual lessons from a member of the pool staff – probably for about ten minutes each week.  The lesson consisted of being suspended in a kind of hoist attached to a pulley hanging from the roof.  The teacher would have hold of a rope which dragged the child along in the water, while the teacher yelled at the child what to do with her arms and legs.

Lessons at the baths
Lessons at the baths

I have searched the internet for photos of such a gadget, but have only managed to find this one image of anything like what I remember.    I doubt whether we learned much.  How much better swimming instruction is nowadays: grandson Samson in Sydney swims like a fish at six years old, and when Oscar was only nine years old, he was brave enough to take a flying leap into a swimming pool, when he and I were in Oz together.

Samson enjoying a dip
Samson enjoying a dip
Oscar jumping into the pool
Oscar jumping into the pool

My daughter Gwen – Jae’s sister – has always been a very enthusiastic swimmer, and as a teenager, decided to learn to become a life saver.  She signed up for the class, but was a bit concerned when told she had to have a “buddy” along with her.  None of her friends were able to join with her, so slightly reluctantly, I agreed to join the class too, although I knew that I was not a speedy enough swimmer to qualify as a life saver.  My memory is of spending several sessions being a body and getting rescued.  I would let myself sink and wait to be yanked to the surface again.  It wasn’t the pleasantest of experiences at the time, but had a very positive outcome.  When Gwen went to university, she got employment as a swimming teacher and life saver in the evenings and weekends, and managed to come out of university with very little debt.  Result!!!!

At the recent first swim with U3A, I brought out once again my towelling jacket with polar bears, dating from 1962 I think.  We were going on a family holiday that year,  and it was decided that the girls had to have a towelling jacket to keep themselves properly covered up.  We went to a department store to choose the fabric with which to sew our jackets: quite why I thought polar bears were appropriate, I have no idea – but they have stood me in good stead.    After the swim, as we had another cuppa, one of our number said how wonderful it is to have all these swims to look forward to during the summer.  We got into a discussion about how important it is to have things to look forward in old age – and it really is.  We might talk about the past a lot – maybe that is what we remember best – but to be able to look forward to something in the future is absolutely key.

My polar bear jacket drying off at the caravan after the recent U3A swim
My polar bear jacket drying off at the caravan after the recent U3A swim

In that respect, I guess I am luckier than most!  In August I will be attempting to climb the highest free standing mountain in the world with my daughter and grandson.  I find it hard to think about anything much else right now!  However, sometimes a little voice in the back of my head asks me what will I have to look forward to after attempting to climb Kilimanjaro?  I will definitely have to come up with something else: seven months of training and blogging is almost a full time job!  Any suggestions gratefully received.