Blogger mate Miriam over at Out n’About in her beautiful Valentine’s Day post
suggested that we should lie in bed each morning and contemplate and be grateful for what we have. Sorry Miriam I disagree, I lie in bed and wonder which body part will fail today. When my shoulders ache too much from blog reading on the phone I tentatively drop both feet to the floor (my wise old aunt told me once that we should always put both feet to the floor in case one has stopped working in the night). All is well, both feet work. I take two steps and a searing pain runs up my left leg, then it’s step, f*!, step, f*! all the way to the bathroom. Under the shower the pain is easing thanks to the warm water then I nick my right leg with the razor. My skin is getting so thin that I’m sure I’m going to open a vein one morning in my efforts to rid myself of unsightly stubble. Not that my friends can see the stubble anyway, they’re all pushing seventy.
Whilst tearing skin off my legs I contemplate this week’s lunch with a bunch of mates and I realize that I am indeed grateful that I am the only one in the group without errant and difficult children, then I remember that its probably because I don’t have children. I am grateful too that all bar one of our marriages have survived. Though I do believe a few of the girls had extra marital education from the garbo, the tennis coach and quite possibly the plumber.
On Valentine’s Day I got half naked with a very attractive young man and I learnt what the hole in the physiotherapists couch is for… So that your tears of pain can drop through to the carpet. Ooh that hurt.
…I slosh a dollop of Dencorub on the left leg and drag on my clothes. Then it’s down the stairs two footfalls gingerly on each stair to be greeted by Woody “so what’s hurting this morning?” It’s time to clean the caravan I think.