Plunging into the New Year

My parents and sister were in the air as the final hours of 2023 (12/31/23 - 123123!) ticked by. Back in Charleston, my brother, my sister-in-law, her parents, and my nephew went to a family friendly party at a bar/restaurant called Tattooed Moose, where patrons can "tattoo" pretty much any surface with Sharpies. There was a bounce house, live music, and at 9:00 pm, fireworks and a [beach] ball drop. 

The next morning, we toasted 2024 with brunch in our PJs. I don't know what the neighborhood around the restaurant was called, but it had a south St. Louis city vibe. 

Then. 

We did a polar plunge. 

Yes, that's first person, as in I did it, too. When Chelsey first brought up the idea, it was a done deal that I'd be the photographer/videographer, but I slowly warmed up (no pun intended) to the idea of participating. If you know me at all, you know I hate being cold, so I'm still not sure what got into me. FOMO at its best, I guess. All I had to was get in and get out. right? It'd be over in 10 seconds flat. Plus, it was in the mid 50s and sunny, so it's not like it was below freezing and I had to jump into Lake St. Louis.

The gathering crowd on Folly Beach.

Conserving ALL the body heat. 

My sister-in-law's dad (far right), the only one with any sense in his opinion, gladly assumed cameraman duties. 

Yes, the water felt every bit like ice. Peep me in the distance, already wrapped in a blue towel.

Immediately after we took this, I made a beeline for the bathroom in the hotel behind us to change out of my wet clothes. 

So there. Believe it. Been there, done that, don't need to do it again (unless maybe it's in the DR and I'm jumping into a pool when it's 85 out?). 

Until next time, blessings!

P.S. I'm trying a new format for this year's Scripture reading journey: a podcast. In the words of the [LCMS] pastor who recommended it to me, "Don't let the Catholic theology trigger ya."