About Me

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Ten years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Retired, and mostly enjoying it. Still knitting. [Zen]tangling.again after a brief hiatus.

Wednesday, November 01, 2017

Spa night.

I had another good day at work. I'm not quite caught up, but I'm getting there. I picked up two more cases of water on the drive home, a ready-made salad, a big stalk of organic fennel (as opposed to the carved-from-marble kind), and a few other fruits that I hope to eat before they wither from neglect on the counter or in the fridge.

Plucking my eyebrows these days consists of ruthlessly going after the white hairs while trying not to uproot any of their brunette neighbors. Eventually I will have no eyebrows, and I can draw them on to suit the mood of the day.

So: eyebrows have been weed-whacked. I've subjected my poor unsuspecting nose to a Biore strip. I've waxed my lip, cheeks, and chin and plucked the hairs that staged a sit-in. And now I have electric turquoise Dead Sea minerals drying on my face. I'm typing with my glasses off. I can see the little red squiggles under words that the blog thinks I've misspelled or knows that I've run together. When the mud is dry I'm going to take a nice long poach in the shower, and then I'm going to baby my feet. I did slather them with lotion last night before going to bed, and they're feeling a little less like trilobites.

Hey, don't judge. My hips are crabby, and I have a belly that would make Rubens swoon. Ergo, it's almost impossible to get my feet close enough to my eyes and my hands to care for my feet the way that other women take for granted. I have tried to like pedicures, but on principle I don't like having anyone else touch my feet. Plus, the last one I got, about five years ago, revived the athletes foot I had so carefully doctored into submission and required at least two rounds of medicine to banish it permanently. I was significantly more flexible five years ago.

Remember how I said last night that I didn't have enough spoons to press the new clothing? I caught my second wind as I was ready to fall into bed, so I stayed up until a little after midnight and got 'er done. Another error: I said the scarf my sister gave me was Pucci. It's Gucci. And it goes perfectly with the copper shirt and rusty plum skirt.

Face is dry. I'm off to go soak my head, and then my feet. Night, y'all.

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