I am contemplating my girly gams.
Yes. You heard me. Legs. My legs. Preferably in heels and stockings.
Hey, I’m a woman who adores her seductive stilettos and precarious platforms. Think I don’t give a damn about the lethargic limbs they stand on?
Think again, though it sounds stupid silly self-indulgent, contemplating my own Lilliputian little legs.
Of course, I’m also contemplating my upper arms and forearms. No – not for the usual lamentable loosening of skin that most women of a certain age complain about.
Pas moi. My story is a different one. A sad-sack track to atrophy, due to injuries never properly addressed. And I’ve had it! You hear that, Universe?
So hello, Trainers! (Not the shoes.) Any pro bono hunky topless whip-me-into-shape manly masseurs in the area?
Pain and Train, Down the Drain?
I’m tired of the pain, I’m tired of the weakness, I’m tired of the fact that my arms in particular ache and flake. I’m weary of the reality that like my legs (and middle, and back, and butt, and hips… sigh…) – nothing resembles “my body” as I know it is triggered and configured in my head!
I understand I’m getting decrepit older, and I accept it. Ruefully. Really.
But I accept aging disgracefully to a point. Returning to the gamut of gargantuan glam gams and laughable laudable legs with which I began this wretched ramble, I confess my wee lower limbs are vertically challenged, and of the “not so wee” variety in the I-hate-my-thighs department not to mention moping musculature where once capricious calves and stunning splits were well within my romantic range.
As for that fulsome flesh I meekly mention? Very 1950s when toned, and I’m good with that! I’m also fine with the pain to gain – strength that is, to be followed by a soak wherein I recognize I wouldn’t sink my rubber duckies if I tenderly lowered my sorry sore self into the tub.
Well… if I ever actually used the tub in the fashion which was designed precisely with soaking and such in mind.
(Hello, Heart Throb? Am I ready to deign a “oui” to your perpetual invite to a romantic bubble bath à deux and avec toys?)
Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that I pondered the spa-splendiferous appeal of water relaxation?
Why don’t I ever take my own advice? Is it time for the salacious segue to the Rubba-Dub-Dub-Two-Coots-In-A-Tub section?
How to Create a Romantic Bath for Two
How to create romance for yourself and your guy (or gal), when you’ve woefully neglected his / her needs due to deadlines, delirium, dimmed and depressed desire, all in place of feisty fifty-something fire?
My recipe for romantic retiree relaxation?
- Pop Advil for nagging back pain.
- Alternately, vodka martini; optionally make “dirty.”
- Bend (ouch) and clean tub (*sigh*)
- Prettify yourself (you figure it out)
- Fill intimate or oversize seduction vessel (that’s the tub) with hot water
- Add bath salts, oils, or bubble inducing lotions and powders of your choice
- Place candles strategically on tub ledges
- (Tip: Light after you get in and slosh.)
- Place any water-friendly toys (PG-13, R, or Mature Audiences Only) on ledge
- Sweet smelling flowers are always a nice touch (a single rose or lily)
- Loofa, sponge, or soft washcloth for bathing your partner, optional.
- Petals floating in the tub? Looks good on film. Annoying in person.
- Pungent and / or spicy fruits in a small bowl, accessible.
Peel me a grape. Peel me anything.- Note – orange rind with cinnamon or cloves engages aromatic arousal
- Snorkling gear optional; humor, mandatory.
- Wine, champagne, or other beverage to enhance the amorous advances.
- Plunge (gently) with adult partner of your choice.
- Tip: If you’re self conscious about your body, get in first! (Then alert your invited participant.)
- Figure out the rest for yourself!
Legs, My Legs, My Once Ode-Worthy Legs!
Now where was I? Still lost in the blissful Bath-O-My-Dreams? The Undersee World of Jacques Coo-Stow?
Ah yes, the legs. These legs. Okay. Not these legs you may see illustrated here, though my once-upon-a-time legs were close enough, in size Petite.
So WTF? How did they lose it so quickly, so recently, so appallingly abysmally abruptly – along with every other once firm and ferocious feral fighting part of my body?
And if I can’t afford a physical therapist much less a personal trainer – how in the hell do I get my (see?) legs back if the best I can manage is a 20 minute walk every other day? What if Suzanne Somers isn’t my idea of the right sort of, um… Thigh Master?
Digression, and apologies to serious sonneteers – but I feel the urge to merge, with regard to the Bard – a measure of pleasure in couplet-like leisure, an ode to the mode when my legs were a treasure; forgive me Good Will, for the lines I will spill!
This Little Woman may be losing her mind, but would that a Pro Bono Trainer I’ll find!
Shakespearean Travesty Sonnet: Oh, For the Legs of My Past
I wish to find the legs I once possessed,
I’m willing to do bidding of the work,
You know, those once toned muscles now regressed,
My once so tight great gams have gone berserk!
Alas, the days when ankles drove them wild!
Uprising touch, curvaceous line to calf,
Sweet hold, so firm the form as lovers smiled,
Please tickle not these knees or I shall laugh!
The mirthful journey farther – do you dare?
Those thighs that promise strength but not excess,
And limberness that comes from dancer’s care,
Ah youth! Must age and injury make such mess?
I grant, I’m pleased to still retain my rack.
But may I say I want my old legs… back?
I want my young arms and hands back.
They’re closer to where I can see how much they have changed …
I don’t even recognise them …
I know what you mean, Vicki Lee. Then again, a lovely 3/4 length sleeve is very sexy… 🙂 As for the hands? I always loved my grandmother’s hands as she grew older. Still elegant, though aging. They told the stories of a life of travel, of hard work, of mothering, of so many stories I only wish I could hear now…
I always love your Friday Rhyme Time!
My legs I’m okay with – at least for now. But my belly and behind? Not what they were five years and three kids ago. Think I’ll add some extra bubbles to the tub and sink down low.
Here’s to a sudsy weekend ahead. xo
And a delightfully sudsy weekend to you too, Kristen!
Bless you for making me laugh! You remind me of a sonnet I once wrote (in Spanish, loosely based on Cervantes) about singeing one of my tresses with a candle while cavorting à deux in a bathtub and how worth it it was… a mere 15 years ago. The only reason it seems halfway possible right now without too much pain is, yes, a trainer twice a week, and “homework” the other days. But there is no one for the à deux part, alas. May you find your pro bono Trainer/Masseur soon :-).
You singed your tresses in the tub’s caresses?
For real?
(Now you made me laugh!)
So glad you enjoyed. I hoped for a little chuckle or giggle here and there… 😉
Your steps to a bath for two made me laugh. Loved the ibuprofen before you begin. Awkward and an activity that can bring on lower back pain? Hell -yes. Sloshing. Annoying petals. Gentle plunging. Fun DA – fun.
As to body parts not what they used to be – oh my. It’s Friday night. I’m in Alaska with my daughter – who is out with friends. I’m alone in our hotel room. Husband is thousands of miles away. I’m mourning my upper arms, abs, behind, water retaining ankles and sore neck. When did this happen? I’m going to pour myself a Vodka Tonic, pop some popcorn and feel bad and old and enjoy the wallowing.
Please know that I enjoyed your musings, your humor and your sonnet. Thanks for the levity tonight.
Alaska, Barb? Wow! That sounds very exotic (and cold?).
Vodka tonic. And popcorn! That’s a great accompaniment… Oh, those parts that have their own ideas… no matter what we do. Thank goodness for humor (and ibuprofin). 🙂
Hi, BLW
First, bravo for the clever and really funny strikethroughs of words in this page! And bravo as well for this humorous sonnet!
Aging and losing some of our beauty and seduction, I always thought that we Westerners have been so much less good at it than Asian people. It makes sense by the way. Because the Judeo-Christian culture is kinda preaching for restrictions on the benefits (especially in the love and sex department) of having young beautiful bodies from the start, with the final result of making us crave it till the end of our lives. On another hand, Asian philosophies are more saying: “Have it all when it’s time for that, and then learn to be detached from it.” How clever isn’t it? Because it’s not like we have the choice. We all know that not even a thousand “hunky topless” (buxom for me, please) trainers, will make the wheel of time turn backward and bring back our body to its previous splendour.
So it’s all about the letting go (le lâcher prise), and your humorous witty words contain a good part of this wisdom, don’t they? 🙂
Detach themselves from la sexualité ? I’m guessing you didn’t mean that, François. I’m hoping you didn’t mean that…
And I hope my sense of humor is part of accepting the march of time with its goodbyes and also a few juicy hellos! (Glad you were amused!)
It’s my tummy that’s disappeared altogether, as in that flat one with hip bones and the outline of a rib cage. I’m having to adjust to the idea of striving for stately instead of skinny. I’ve always thought bathtubs were largely uncomfortable places, far too hard and if the bathroom is warm enough then the water is too hot…much prefer showers.
“Striving for stately instead of skinny.” Love that, Shelley!
Honestly? I never strived for skinny – just the “me” I felt best at (which was usually beyond reach!). As I matured, I found a different “me” I felt best at which was achievable. Now, as with everything, that needs to be adjusted in order to not drive myself (ourselves?) crazy. I also try to focus on being healthy which is a different goal and perhaps the one we all ought to be thinking of more – and all along.
(Love your comment on baths and showers.)
No, of course not, blw, not being detached from sexuality. Heaven forbid! But we surely have to detach from being the queen or king of the balln don’t we? There was a time when I could walk in Paris streets with my chérie, and some people were turning their heads back on us, like saying “Ah the beautiful couple!”. Let’s just say that I don’t expect that to happen again 🙂
I was so busy yesterday that I didn’t have time to stop by to read your blog. I am so glad I backed up a day to read this post. The strikethroughs, the bath instructions, and the sonnet – So funny! Thanks 🙂
As you brush your teeth, prepare coffee, and wash dishes, do slow, methodical calf raises.
There are your calves back.
As you floss, put away laundry, and saute, do squats.
There’s your derriere.
Do grocery shopping with hand basket instead of cart.
Instant biceps.
Any other toning can be done in front of the television. Never sit for sitcoms. Stand up and clench something. Repeatedly.
Stand up for “sit”-coms.
(You have me cracking up… while bending down…)