The old ones are best….

We lounged in bed this morning with a cup of tea that John had made, just chatting a bit before I winkled myself out from under the warm covers to get a shower and prepare myself for a private yoga lesson at 11.30.

I was lucky, Jaime had a spare slot at the last minute this morning and offered it to me since we were not travelling down to Dunstable for Terry’s funeral, after all. We had agreed with Gloria that the journey and standing in church would make it a long day and probably not the best thing to do, as John is still under the weather.

As I got ready to leave, John also winkled himself out of bed and declared that he was going to have a shower. Ah….. OK. “Will you be alright on your own, John?” I wondered. He said he would. I trusted to judgement, kept my fingers crossed that there’d be no fainting in the shower cubicle, and set off on my way.

I had a wonderful yoga session. It was just right. I had told Jaime that I am still feeling less than able to do the power type of yoga, and that even gentle yoga might be too much. As it was, she created a brilliant lesson concentrating on breathing, stretching, somatics and Yin yoga which suited me down to the ground. Oh, yes, getting back to the old, familiar and fundamental poses of yoga was spot on.

Once home, I fearfully opened the front door to find out whether John was still upright. He was. He’d had his shower and no funny turns. He’d come downstairs to make a cuppa and only had one funny turn. Fortunately, it was when he was holding the water jug full of cold water, rather than when the kettle was full of hot. Phew!

We had a bite to eat and watched a TV programme about a plane lost at sea. Part Two rolled on from Part One, by which time I was fascinated and kept on watching. Bless him, John was so tired after his shower, he missed it as he nodded off on the sofa.

I tapped his shoulder just as the programme was coming to an end to remind him that last night we had arranged to call on Pete and Dawn this afternoon. It took him a few minutes to work out where he was and what we were doing, but he soon picked up his wits and his marbles and we were on our way. “Do you want to get the scooter out, John, or shall we drive?” I asked. “Let’s drive,” came the answer. I concurred – use the bit of luxury we’ve got standing on the drive, eh?

Ah…. familiarity… to sit comfortably with dear friends whom we’ve known forever; and to relax, chat and laugh together did us all the power of good. We may have been laughing at misfortune some of the time, but laughter is definitely the best medicine in getting things into perspective.

We got to talking about wills ‘n things and bemoaning how much we’re fleeced for creating our end-of-life documents. John said, “Yes, its the same old thing… The solicitor told me it’d cost 300 quid and I’d just got two questions for the price. ‘Two questions?’ I gasped. The solicitor replied, ‘That’s one question. Next?'” Ber-Boom-Tish! Hehehe. The old ones are best, aren’t they? Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle.

A fish ‘n chip supper on the way home; a lovely video chat to Michael and the children, and that’s us done for the day.

Take care everyone. God bless.