Today I shall mooch. The occasional meander, and certainly a wander, but mainly mooching. I take on the Heritage Trail walk, the 'stairs with 100 steps' is just cruel. Calves on fire, right thigh spasming like an affectation. Massage needed.
I settle in an English tea-room with croquet lawn at the stair top. Tea and scones. I begin to write my next 'Savage' piece. The title is 'inconvenience'. The idea flows, and the words, but the structure isn't right. Concept captured. I'll let it brew awhile and try again. Such a place of beauty I am sat in, the piece has to be colonial. I purchase 'Land below the wind' as inspiration.
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I saw a gecko today. She made me smile. They always do.
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Just been tag-teamed in a massage parlour. Spit roasted, abused from both ends. An hour of horrendous ecstasy. Chinese candle wax treatment to clear the passages. Leg massage so I can walk in a less special manner.
The grip, the pain in my calves. Never, ever felt anything like it. And then.
You know THAT moment...
Lying there, modesty covered by a towel, deep tissue thigh massage from attractive lady...
...and you get 'the twitch.'
Mind scramble to the Russian female shot-put team, Giant Haystacks, famous England left midfielders. Anything, anything to stop the...
***Twitch***
The more you try not to think about it...
***Twitch***
Long division. Plant pots. Beige.
***Towel lift twitch***
Well thankfully that didn't happen.
We wanted to go to Agnes Keith's house and the war memorial on our last day but it chucked it down. So we visited the buffet!
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