don't_panic raze my dad tells this story sometimes. i only remember it in the vague way some pieces of your childhood hang around without really sticking to you. i was about ten. we were visiting friends of his. a married couple who lived on the water. he lost himself in conversation and looked up to find me gone. his stomach sank. "where is he?" he said. "where's my son?" the husband pointed to the river. i was in a canoe, alone, swimming from a seated position with a single-bladed paddle after teaching myself how to make the shoe-shaped boat move. and though i was far enough from shore that he couldn't have saved me if i fell in the drink, somehow he knew i'd be okay. he watched me come as close to flying as i ever would on my own steam and filed the moment away where it wouldn't be forgotten. 220829 what's it to you? who go blather from