I remember buying myself a rose about ten years after my own mother’s suicide, in a gesture of Mothering Myself. Doreen Phelan, right up to her 51st year, wasn’t much of a nurturer, probably because HER mother didn’t cuddle her. These things can travel vertically through the generations unless violently uprooted.
So, I got “Livin’ Easy” and was thrilled at how the car smelled when I drove it home. It still lives in the yard, much reduced, whereas its hardy rootstock is fleurishing redly among the tea roses. I learned to check very carefully the rating of the roses I bought thereafter. Ones such as Fragrant Cloud will knock you out.
So of course I had to get it, as well as Scentimental, a candy striped one which came out in 1996. My self-momming has proven to be pretty effective.
Another way to take care of Fabulous Moi is to get a massage now and then, and Barbara Parker is my Marin neighbor who does a great job… in case you’re in search of healing touch.: Bbarbville@aol.com
When Charlie lived at home, we got regular massage, but now massage has been relegated to Extreme Luxury, owing to the cost of Bello Gardens each month.
When I raced I used to do my own legs, and it seemed to help flush the lactic acid from my throbbing quads.
Speaking of which, I did a lap of a really excellent race called Redwood Trail Alliance Dirt Days yesterday. Framebuilers were there, Sycip, Hunter, Retrotec, Fitz, SIM cycles…and terrific weather made the arduous 7 mile lap pure joy, with ceonothus blooming wildly in the backlands. I salute Curtis Inglis, Bike Monkey, and all the volunteers for producing a really memorable couple of days.
I plan to take Charlie to hear music this evening (Bach choral music by Cantata Collective of Berkeley), which will round out the weekend’s fun.