hot stones

Every so often B pummels my back. She lets me relax under cling film and hot wax, and then gets to work. Poke, prod, rub, poke, poke, rub. Sometimes I’m practically bruised when I leave, but I’m always relaxed.

Yesterday, we took a new approach. Warm oils and hot stones. Oh, joy! B held the stones, and used them to massage my back, neck and shoulders. (I had stones too- palm cosies!)Targetted heat, like a very efficient hot water bottle. It felt a bit like a warm child’s car getting in under my shoulder blade, finding the knots and melting them away. I could actually hear knots popping, feel the ridges around the back of my neck. Eventually I had to move, but B nearly had to wake me up first. I was indeed relaxed and feeling an almost literal weight off my shoulders.

The day continued. I aranged for a charity to come and take the furniture and the fire place. I bought new school sweat shirts (to replace the ones which shrank in the drier). I bought healthy vegetables to make me skinny. There were homework squabbles, and the long blowy walk to ballet. There was tea to be made and washed up after. The new tin whistles were practised with the enthusiam and skill of the first week. I had a wee lie down.

I was calm. I did not hyper ventilate. I did not crack up. I was not cross. I even checked sums.

A massage with hot stones works miracles. I’m doing that again.


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