Heat, Yam and Bras and Trousers

 Why would anybody want to read my blog I ask myself.  Today especially when all I have to relate is that I went for a Thai massage yesterday.  On the hottest day of the week, and the hottest day since I went last time when again it was the hottest day.  It was 34C.  

Last time during the journey there I was dripping with sweat, I had the hot coffee and was mopping my brow for an hour before I went to the massage lady's house. You may remember all this. 

This time I put the yam cream to the test and yammed up my wrist and lower arm before leaving the house.  You could say clutching at straws.  I attired myself in the very thin flimsy cotton trousers, that I purchased from Gundrun Sjoden three years ago;  Weaver's recommendation at the time because she had heard of the clothing company through one of her carers.  The trousers were thin and although I bought a pair, two actually, that were ample in size and not stretched to the limit over my expanded body, the seams all had to be re-machined by me because they split with gay abandon at every available point of joins and the material stretched away and tried to escape even from my machined repairs.  

I eventually stopped wearing them for the seam problems although I had put them away clean and repaired.  So yesterday out came a very thin pair  of lime green baggy trousers and, indeed,  they were better than the heavy linen Sahara ones I wore last time.  I concluded I should have taken these to Azerbaijan as they are much cooler than heavy linen that I did take.  However, I would always have been worried about the seams.   I was  over hot in Azerbaijan and eventually gave up bra wearing because the bra made me feel even hotter.   I only had a sports bra with me which was almost 100% elasticated and wearing it was like being encased in rubber.  It was not a good choice of bra for the holiday although I was not expecting the weather to be so hot in Azerbaijan. 

Although I wear shorts for all local sojourns into South Norfolk if I go to the big city, in the true teaching of my mother 60 years ago, I do not wear shorts.  If I was going straight from the train to the massage lady I might have considered shorts but as I was to spend an hour at least in the Odeon café writing, it turned into almost 2 hours because the massage lady texted to say she was delayed,  shorts were not the order of the day.  Anything may go for many cinema goers but for me I always feel some decorum is in order in a public place that is not a supermarket. Even a supermarket demands some but not quite so much. 

The Thai massage was tough and I endured it all without screaming out, she says the men are the worst for asking her to stop and their pain thresholds are low.  I have not had my original masseuse for some time as she has been working in London to earn money to pay  her tax bill as London pay rates for good Thai masseuses are very good and they are in much demand.  Her work in London seems to have made her even stronger in hands than before.  

Last night I was very tired and went to bed early and slept for 8 hours.  

Oh, and by the way, the yam cream worked and I was not dripping with sweat yesterday.  I also did not have a hot coffee.  I had an iced Frappé coffee as recommended by the barista and it was delicious.