So last night I had to resort to a taxi, and sobbed the whole way to class. The taxi driver had helped me to roll my car away from the bowser and into a parking bay so he was understanding. Ben's final words to me before I entered the hot room were that I needed the yoga. I thought I needed a stiff drink and a lie down. I wasn't sure how the class would go. Curiously, it was one of the strongest classes I have done for some time. My balance in the standing series was right on - I even managed to pull off two sets of Standing Bow pose without falling out even though I was head spinning and my skin felt prickly. And neither did I try and distract myself from all of this unpleasantness by rubbing my nose or adjusting my pants. Habits be gone.
Today in class (I taxied again) I felt weak and like I was going to vomit. But I'm still on track for the challenge.
Look what else happened yesterday. My chairs came back from the upholsterer:
This is how they were when I bid on them at auction out at Gowans. You really needed to smell them to realise how bad they were. They reeked of cat pee.
Haven't they have been miraculously transformed? The chesterfield sofa was another auction find - from when Leo Scofield was selling off his furniture at his Georgian pile at Kempton last year.
R
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