Tuesday, June 11, 2013
summer morning: june roses and pumpkin muffins
When I got out of bed this morning, I felt a little lopsided.
Like, in the shoulder region.
It was trigger point class last night, and boy,
a lot of triggers were released.
Like they just melted away under the fingertips.
I really, really needed this to happen.
We only had time for one shoulder, though.
Which is better than nothing at all.
My instructor walked over to the table I was on,
deciding to use me as his guinea pig.
I wanted to shout hooray.
Which I kind of did.
(I'll be your guinea pig anytime you want.)
Among other things, he stood off to the side
and he pushed his hand
(up to the ends of his fingers)
laterally through my armpit
and all the way to that place under the scapula,
accessing the subscapularis muscle sandwiched
between that and the ribs.
Wow, that was interesting and very amazing.
(Did you know that's even possible?)
And it felt really good in an almost painful way
if that makes sense.
I went running this morning.
I love running early on summer mornings.
I go the same route everytime. I wave to strangers.
In my shorts, cool, but enough to work up a good sweat.
On my way up the hill, I saw the wild roses
creeping up and down over the stone wall.
Sweet, white blossoms.
It was so beautiful and almost took my breath away.
When I got home,
I knew I needed to head back with my camera.
When I got home, he asked me if I'd make pumpkin muffins.
Why not, I thought.
It's a lazy type of morning with nowhere to go
and nothing on the agenda.
(This is one reason I especially love summer mornings.)
He turned his nose up after he found out that I'd put applesauce in them.
Every time I hear the word "Pumpkin Muffin", I think of my fifteen year old daughter Eliza.
Sometimes I call her that.
It just depends on the day or the mood I'm in.
I tend to invent names for my kids that are a little out there.
(They've told me so.)