The end of the day starts for me at midnight. That's when I get showered and dressed in my pajamas. A hot shower is my treat.
I grasp the single faucet control and crank it to the red demarcation line that indicates the hotness of the water. Letting the cool water resting in the line move through the spray, I wait until I see steam issuing from the shower stall.
It's ready and I step over the side and onto the bottom of the tub drawing the other leg over the edge to stand under the spray of the water. I let the hot water wash over my body, turning from front to back and then again facing into the spray of water. My skin tingles. The muscles in my arms and shoulders relax and I stand for a while longer enjoying the feeling. The cherry blossom body wash is squeezed from the bottle and onto the back brush. The bristles of the brush stimulate the circulation as I reach over my shoulder and scrub my back. The perfumed soap leaves it's fragrance over my body and switching from the brush to a wash cloth, I treat the rest of myself to a soothing scrub leaving more fragrance over my limbs and torso.
Shampooing my hair is followed by a creme rinse and then a final rinse of the warm water.
I'm ready to step out of the tub into a body size thick white towel which wraps around me 1 1/2 times,while another smaller towel is wrapped turban style around my head.
Pajamas are found. A pair of white cotton shorts and an over sized T-shirt provides night wear. No silk pajamas for me tonight. I'm alone and comfortable in cotton.
Towel drying my hair, I then use a brush to speed up the drying process. Flossing and brushing, my teeth get some attention before I call it a day.
It's a damn shame when a day doesn't provide anything worth while to blog about and a shower has to be the subject.
I could have mentioned, Carrie was here today and after destroying the house and then reconstructing by picking up everything she had done, we went outside to play. We had some bad minton rackets that we use for tennis rackets. The handles are shorter and the racket is broader which makes hitting tennis balls easier on both of us. Carrie has the serve down. She turns her upper body to the side, holds the ball in one hand, and with the other she draws back with the racket and midway through her swing, she drops the ball that connects with the racket and now it's my turn to get into the play. Neither one of us would waste time by going to a real tennis court to play. The bit of concrete extending beyond the patio is our play area. If the ball goes beyond the planter box on one side or past the potted plants on the other side, it is considered out of bounds.
We don't worry about keeping score. We are more intent on just hitting the ball once or twice. Carrie is having a great time. We play until her face is reddened and sweat is dripping off her chin. It's time to go inside and cool off.
Soon it was time to take her back home. She will be spending the weekend with her paternal grandparents. She needs bathed and some rest.
Her bedtime will come sooner then mine.
It's midnight and my time has arrived. It's my bedtime and I'm done.
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