1:17 p.m. - 2003-07-17
Sweet Pea
I had a massage yesterday, from my friend Patty-the-massage-therapist-and-sometimes-bartender-for-Bare-Hands. We have to drive to Birmingham for me to see her, but it is worth every second of that boring one and a half hour drive. Cuz, folks, Patty ROCKS!!
Patty doesn't do what I think of as recreational massage. You know, the kind of massage where it feels really good at the time but you go home and 20 minutes later realise your muscles are still a mess. Nope. Patty does deep tissue massage, which is not for the faint of heart. It doesn't hurt like hell, but it does ache enough that you know Patty means business! It's for people with seriously messed up muscles.
And, since I spend sometimes twelve hours a day hunched over an embroidery hoop, I have seriously messed up muscles.
Yesterday was an especially nice massage appointment because one of my favorite beings in the universe came to the appointment, too. Patty brought her dog, Sweet Pea, who is, seriously, one of my favorite ever dogs. She's what Southerners call a "cattle dog" - she's kind of rangy and has a brindle coat, and the greatest sweet ol' face with those kind of limpid "oh, just love me" sort of eyes. And she just a totally calm and centered being. Nothing bugs Sweet Pea. She just goes with the flow. A true "zen dog".
All during my massage she hung out next to the table, washing herself with big slurpy noises and occasionally sleeping and snoring a little. I realised I was far more relaxed with her in the room. Having an animal around is my natural state of being, I guess.
After a couple of hours of Patty stretching my neck and squeezing muscles in my back and chest that I had never even known I had, I practically leapt off the table. It always strikes me as miraculous. I go in to see Patty a helpless wreck and I come out feeling totally energised.
She's amazing folks. I'm here to testify.
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