My son’s picture of the hot tub from hell
I threw the shattered remains in the bin. It had been a simple accident, and if I could not replace it like for like, it could just as easily be replaced with something different and much more affordable that would serve exactly the same purpose. It really didn’t matter… things don’t. Except, illogically, it did. I bit back totally unreasonable tears for several hours afterwards, knowing full well that it really didn’t matter… and feeling, like the proverbial camel, that it was the final straw.
I would be hard pushed to lay the blame on any one thing. There have been a host of things over the past few months and I suppose I am tired. Most of it has been an assault of pinpricks, and I have probably been running on empty for a while.
One of the major factors has been my son’s lack of a bathroom for the past three months, since it was ripped out for drying and replacement after a leak… three months where my bathroom, five miles from his home, has been his bathroom, with all that entails in terms of travel, disruption and the washing of walls. It may not seem like a big thing, but it has completely reordered the days and, by the time I get home, walk the dog again and do the necessary jobs, I am too damnably tired to even think about using the bathroom myself and have fallen behind with just about everything.
That gets to me, and it gets me down, so I was in not in the brightest of moods when I left home far too early this morning to let the workmen into my son’s home. Granted, and with luck, it takes us one step closer to the reinstatement of his bathroom, but I would gladly have stayed mouldering in bed for a little while longer.
Once the builders and my son had been fed and supplied with coffee, I gardened, baked and cooked while he soaked in the hot tub, a therapeutic necessity that helps him get moving. My next job was to treat the water with the various sanitising chemicals, so, catching sight of him leaving the tub, I wandered out to do the needful.
He lingered talking while I worked, therefore I am blaming him. Or the worn soles of my shoes. Or perhaps Fate took a hand… for the next thing I know, I am head first in the tub. My feet slid out, tipping me forward and I did a somersault for which, my son assures me, I would have been given a perfect ten.
Soaked head to foot, I surfaced to find said son bent double and laughing fit to bust. This unseemly mirth drew the attention of the builders. It was infectious. Everyone laughed, including me.
Dripping and squelching my way to my son’s wardrobe, I purloined such clothing as could be made to fit and shoved my wet clothes in the washing machine. My son was still laughing as I emerged, sporting a stormtrooper T-shirt; well, he does have the Darth Vader ringtone allocated to me. Great guffaws overtook him every time he looked my way and I couldn’t help laughing too… and, in spite of the aches that were settling in, by the time I went home I felt much better than I have for a while.
I thought back to a recent conversation about the healing to be found in laughter. There is a lot of science to back up the benefits of laughter, from the release of endorphins and an increase in T-cells, to the lowering of blood pressure. But there is something about shared laughter that goes one step further, releasing tensions at personal levels and healing stressed relationships… even with parts of yourself. The mind may recognise what the emotions refuse to admit and what the body resists. Laughter opens the lines of communication between the sundered parts of ourselves and realigns them.
We don’t seem to laugh often enough these days. Especially not the kind of belly-laugh that involves the whole body. I wonder if we have become too shy or too conscious to laugh until we cry? If so, it would be a great shame… because laughter heals far more than we think.
* In case this colloquialism has not made it across the Pond, ‘khazi’, which may be spelled in several ways, is a slang term for a toilet or outhouse… which was once, in living memory, one and the same thing.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Oh dear Sue, first hugs, big hugs! I do hope you are not too bruised. I am glad the laughter helped but gosh how worrisome. I’ve had moments in my life like this.
Thank you for the definition of khazi. You guessed it hadn’t made its way across the pond. At least not to Fallbrook, which is its own place entirely. Still big hugs!🤗
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Thankfully, water is a soft place to land at that distance. I’m just not usually an acrobat 😉
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🙃
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Jordan, Is that Fallbrook, CA? If so, I have been there and it is a unique place as you noted! I live in Yucaipa, CA. That will be neat to find out.
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I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt at all, and you are so right about laughing at a situation and laughing at ourselves. Hope all is good for you now and no bad bruises, concussions or broken parts. They are so expensive these days. Sometimes I wish there were a thrift store that carried replacement body parts – not from live people, but things that would and could serve those of us of the senior persuasion.
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No damage… but I still ache 😉
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Reblogged this on tabletkitabesi.
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Thanks for sharing 🙂
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Oh! Whatever it was you broke I am sorry that it upset you. I am also furious on your behalf that your son’s bathroom is taking so long. Life can be so frustrating. You are so right we don’t laugh enough and we should. Your whole post shows how hard you are trying and succeeding to keep it (what ever the elusive it is ) together as well as coping with you lovely if a little cheeky son of yours. All I can do is send you support, energy and lots of laughter.💜😀😀😀😀😁😁😁😁😁😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁💜
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I wouldn’t mind so much, but letting the insurance company organise tradesmen was done on the basis they have the contacts and could do so better than me. When Nick bought the place, we had the entire house and garden gutted, rebuilt, redesigned and finished in six monhs… sighs… xxx
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I completely understand your feelings it is so frustrating isn’t it. I really hope that all the work will be completed very soon!💜
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So do I, Willow! 😉 x
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Oh Sue!!!
But you’re right, a good belly laugh makes everything better!
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It does… though I am hobbling a bit today 😉
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Bless you xx
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I did that years ago with one of my dogs I was trying to give a bath in the bathtub. Had one of those shower doors, and so when I fell, hit the edge of the bottom of that and still have a big dent in my leg after all these years. I did hold tight onto my dog though so that he wouldn’t get hurt with me, and thankfully, he didn’t. Hugs to feel better soon. It can be so sobering to get a hurtie as we grow older. Not at the time perhaps but in the future for certain.
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I’ve always been accident prone, so I’m sort of used to it. My son is still laughing, though, every time he thinks about it…
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The bathroom still isn’t sorted? I’d assumed it would be done by now..
Whatever you broke, I’m sorry it happened, and that it was one thing too many. I’m glad though that you were able to find a reason to laugh, even if it was at your own expense, and that it helped you so much.
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Not yet… but almost, thank goodness! x
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I thought you might have lingered for a relaxing soak in the hot tub once you were in it – even if in such an unorthodox manner 🙂 A really good out-loud laugh does make us feel better. Sorry about the breakage and I hope Nick’s bathroom is finished soon.
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Had I been wearing less than a sweater, I might have done 😉
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I don’t think you give yourself enough of a break either. I know it difficult though when you have so many responsibilities. I don’t have even 1/10th of your responsibilities, I am pretty sure, and I feel like I am working most all the time, so I can imagine what it must be like for you. We need to see that you have some wine or a good lager of beer or something totally relaxing so you can just lay you down to sleep once in awhile!
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That will be happening imminently 😉
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I’m glad to hear you are okay, albeit maybe a bit bruised from the dip in the hot tub. I am a bit worried, though, that you are not getting enough rest. ❤
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I have a weekend to look forward to 🙂 xx
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Oh no, Sue. I hope you are not too sore from the perfect 10 somersault. xxx
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Just a bit, Adele, nothing a soak in a hot tub wouldn’t cure 😉 xx
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Or an Ani cuddle. xxx
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They always work 🙂 xx
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A return to the scene of the crime! 😀
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My doctor ran blood tests and seems to think my exhaustion is actually a fairly bad case of anemia. The worrisome part is why? Meanwhile, Garry needs a stress test.
I would NEVER have guessed I was anemic. I really do eat the right foods. I should not be anemic, but it’s a big drop from the last tests, two years ago. So if you haven’t had the basic tests run … you might just consider it. Sometimes, something complicated can be a vitamin deficiency.
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Vitamin D… in spite of all the time I spend outdoors. They have run just about every test in the book this yera. Results might be nice though. Nearly six weeks on and I’m still waiting for the MRI results…
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It takes an equal amount of time over here in the U.S. too! And then if you don’t call and ask for the test results, sometimes they just “get lost.” Now who can lose a test result??? REALLY???
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Call? Oh I have been calling. ‘Up to four weeks’ they say. So, now it is almost six?? Grr…
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Thanks for explaining khazi. I have never heard my Yorkshire born and bred hubby use that word. I agree, laughter can cure most things and certainly is the secret of a long marriage. It has saved us many times. I can almost picture your launch into the hot tub and was laughing from afar. Construction projects are the bane of life. xo
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We are almost there with the bathroom… and I am glad the hot tub raised a smile 🙂
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Belly laughs are the best medicine. 😀
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They are…and this kept my son laughing for days… 😉
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Amen! 😂😅
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Oh, Sue, I hope you aren’t too badly bruised. Laughter is good medicine for everything! I can see Nick doubled over laughing at you, as my sons would have been. Sons can be merciless with their laughter! Love and hugs and laughter. 💕🤗🤣
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Sons enjoy themselves far too much sometimes 😉
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What a saga, Sue. I hope your son’s bathroom is now back in order. We are lucky to have several here, so when one is down we aren’t out of luck. But I’m glad you laughed. I’ve been depending on Sally Cronin to provide my laughs lately, but this story did it for me, too.
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Not quite, Noelle… but almost, thank goodness! Small homes in the UK tend to be a little light on facilities… but I have to say, a week and a half on, Nick is still laughing about it 😉
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