A client this morning requested no oil, no swedish massage... A fairly unusual request, most of my clients either love swedish or love deep tissue.

She was a retired massage therapist, so I knew I had to do a good job-not that I'd do less than that for anyone else, but it's a lot easier to look like an expert/miracle worker with folks who don't know their gastrocnemius from their infraspinatus.

Her neck was her primary complaint and she wanted me to work on it 'til it was 'done' so I took a deep breath, took her head in my hands and just let my worries(oh my god, how am I gonna spend a whole hour here?) go. My hands sort of went on automatic. It was quite a shock to look up from her nicely melting neck and see half an hour had passed already. Time to flip over and do my favorite shoulder thing. She loved it.

Kudos from a fellow therapist are always extra sweet.

Then, a treat for me! First the sauna. Then:

I got a massage from one of my favorite fellow practitioners. He amazes me. It's like an opera or something. Tons of oil(actually creme, but he heats it and it feels sooo much like oil) and lots of lomi(Hawaiian massage)like strokes-swift, smooth, powerful, delightful, tender strokes... Lots of powerhouse forearm and elbow friction...

I affectionately nicknamed him Meathook('cause of this scapula-raising move wherein I feel much like a hanging carcass), but, man, meat never had it so good!

He does this thing where he about sweeps you off the table with the stretching(arm-all ways), then sweeps you back on again by pulling your legs. Just when you think you will surely hit the floor in two vivisected sections, there you are happily deposited and nestled back into the comfy table. Even his draping is dramatic, like a magician pulling a tablecloth out from under the champagne brunch-only you're the brunch!

My obturators(deep butt muscles) were screaming. I had no idea they were screaming until he found them... Oh my god. Poor neglected babies. Well, they certainly got heard today.

Whew.

Between the pain(though somehow he manages to walk the threshold between pleasure and pain-skillfully remaining in the 'sweet' zone) and the giggles, it was a splendid way to end my work day.

Then I walked on home, with a slight detour since Ravenna park's main path was fenced off and closed. Construction, judging by the giant excavator parked smack in the middle of the poor flattened hedge on the other side of the park.

I was going to attack my bigass pile of paper work, since I don't have chi gong tonight(my teacher is in Puerto Rico for three weeks)... But I think I'll procrastinate and sprawl on my pretty purple bed like a queen, read and drink tea 'til the cows come home.

Which reminds me, I gotta get 'The Farthest Shore'. Sam and I are reading Le Guin's Earthsea trilogy(well, quadrilogy now, I guess) and we made short work of the first two.

Sigh... I love that series.