Thursday, 2 February 2017
Stop the Clock!
Here we are in February already. Where did January go? I feel as though I blinked and missed it somehow. It's several weeks since I last posted and I must apologise for not answering comments on my last post.
I didn't mean to be away so long. My absence was precipitated by a ridiculous thing that happened to me in the checkout queue in Sainsbury's on the morning of Christmas Eve. I was standing patiently behind Harry as he loaded our goods onto the belt - he has his own method, I don't mess with it - when I was overcome with a violent coughing fit and WHAM! Pain ripped across my lower back and I couldn't move. I thought it was just a bad flare but after a couple of days I realised it was a fresh injury. I'm not going to bang on about it, once the damage is done it's all about pain management through exercise, medication and rest. It didn't ruin the Christmas and New Year holidays, the break just didn't go as planned. There wasn't much we couldn't work around, though I had to forego the traditional pink Champagne on Christmas morning so that I could get drugged up to cook dinner and I also missed being spanked to the chimes of Big Ben on New Year's Eve.
Spanking may have been off the agenda but ttwd was firmly in place. Harry was extra attentive, making sure there was no slacking with the exercises and reminding me to rest. On the third day, Boxing Day, I levered myself up from the floor after exercising and managed to twist my left wrist in the process. I am right-handed but my left hand is the one that holds my iPad - disaster! Harry thought it would be a good thing to be parted from it for a while. I managed to dabble a bit in social media on my phone but it's too small for reading the newspaper or blogs.
It was frustrating not to be able to shower or dress by myself for several days. At times, before ttwd, I have chafed at being so dependent on Harry, pushing back against being mollycoddled, but this time it was curiously freeing to let go and lean in to him. He took over completely, doing most of the cooking and other chores as well as looking after me. Our elder daughter and her partner came to stay for a few days to celebrate Harry's birthday and make a shopping trip to London. Harry insisted on cooking his own birthday meal, firmly shooing everyone out of the kitchen. I did manage to make his birthday cake the day before, though.
By the end of the holidays I was starting to mend and Harry went back to work. A couple of days later, I felt confident enough to make the short drive to the salon for a haircut. Harry noticed the hairdo when he came home and asked how my back was. I said it had felt a lot better that day and he said "Oh, good," with a glint in his eye. I hastily said, "Not that good!" He just gave me an enigmatic smile and a pat on the bottom.
After dinner we were watching a re-run of The Big Bang Theory when he suddenly turned off the TV, held out his hand to me and led me to our bedroom. To my surprise, instead of sitting on the side of the bed he carried on round to the end. He hardly ever spanks there because the foot board is shaped, needing a lot of faffing about with a throw and pillows to make it comfortable. He did the faffing bit, then tugged at the belt on my jeans and told me to take them and my knickers off, whilst he selected his implements. He was most solicitous, bending me carefully over the bed, making sure my back was fully supported and in no danger of being jarred by his 'attention'. He remarked how taut my bottom was in that position and I reminded him that would make it hurt more. I suggested he should start with feathers, as it was a while since there had been any hand to bottom contact, and recited Cat's wise words: "Wood is no good, leather is better, feathers are best." That was to no avail and I soon had a hot bottom. It was a much-needed reconnection for both of us, with a lot of laughter in between the ouches.
I've had no twinges in my back the last couple of days and am cautiously optimistic that it has healed. I'd like to say life in the Jones household has now returned to normal but we have both caught the dreaded lurgy (upper respiratory tract infection, according to a doctor friend) that is doing the rounds in our part of the world. It's been over a week since it started and we are fed up with it now and getting a bit tetchy. That may or may not be the reason I have an 'appointment' at 5 o'clock this evening...
Hoping to be back soon,