Lou just laid me down and smothered me with oil.
Both of us impulsebought a trip we couldn’t really afford for similar reasons. Mine you’ve heard all about. Walking off some of the things that don’t help. Burning out some eels. Clearing the pathways. Lou was upskilling herself. Working really hard over weeks in the sun learning about oily things and digestion and deepening her spiritual practice with a physical and practical Ayervedic Massage Training.
She got back to Brighton and before she assembles her client base she very generously told me that it might be helpful for her to work on a man as there were only two men on her course so she was better with women’s bodies.
She chose a particular oil for me involving sesame and strange herbs. Warmed up gently in a special metal gong type bowl, and then two hours of absolute bliss. As is often the case with me, it was man vs head. Itches and cramps and twitches and mumbles. I had to mostly stay still for two hours. As I write, my right foot is twitching. I struggle to stay still for ten seconds even when I’m sleeping. So this is another expression of how brilliant the relationship I have with her is. I paid her with a driving lesson and lunch and she helped shut my brain.
She’s gonna pass her test, but she needs to get the sense memory back, so I could sit in Bergman and let her move him around a car park in Stanmer. We did lots of the old stopping and starting, which really is the entire nuts and bolts of it. We learn road sense as a cyclist, or a passenger. Once we can operate the car without thinking, we just have to pay attention and not be too cautious or too reckless.
Lunch was fish and chips. I got back from Japan actually craving chips and ketchup. I love umami, strange tastes, heat. But there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing. Good old fish and chips. In a pub. With a pint at lunchtime.
And then an oily massage and I can feel the wall approaching like a bullet train so I’m writing this early.
AlBarclay 