Relax-ed...
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjab4iJFxyN8PrgsS81zHeZicwK-NoXSutsXbAjEJ2hTj2bzTur70u5RnVUs2k8NL5B-tOg5yBxG-S-9_68Ux4L3LPKe_ZEdWLBJGxT8UkJtGzOu_Qc8spT6IVikSzu5AgCwEq6mEkRNM6xV4VGHH4EqGmUq6ohu-ov9XTKvJ05Dgac6aweMSxEH8spDKQ/w640-h360/bathtub.jpeg)
I am absolutely tatered, to use the colloquialism [origin unknown to me: worth researching], and it is entirely self-inflicted. Not through physical effort or exercise, productive or otherwise, but through the simple expedient of deciding to take a very rare hot bath [picture not our tub]. Although I shower every day, I seldom take a soak, as the bath takes so much hot water it has to be considered an absolute luxury these days. But aches and pains various, and the usual winter outbreak of the old eczema issue on my legs [since childhood: long thought over, but in recent years, back on the plot again], motivated me to turn the immersion thermostat up full for half an hour and fill the tub to the brim. Bliss. Only now, I'm reduced to a kind of - had I been smoking something - stoned state, where I simply want to eat something and settle down in front of the wood stove for the evening. Ray's funeral is tomorrow, so a period of reflection is in order anyway...