So today at lunch Betty, Agnes, and yours truly were sitting on the patio of this lovely Thai restaurant when out of the blue Betty starts going on about how she's taken up yoga. She swears up and down that it has done wonders for her joints, not to mention her sex life with her husband. (Yes, Agnes and I are both widows, which frankly, that's ok by me. My husband was a pompous jerk, and Agnes' husband thought he was the Archiduke Ferdinand.)
Betty wants me and Agnes to join her yoga class. Agnes of course was all for it, she's 81 and has only two brain cells left, so if you told her to jump off a bridge, she'd do it. (Note to self, next time Agnes tells me one of her awful gall bladder stories, tell her to go lie down in the street.) I told Betty to rethink this. For one thing, Agnes can barely walk, and for another, if I stretch out too far I lose control of my bowels, and I don't think her yoga class would appreciate being bombed out of Kansas City...yes, not even Beano could prevent that.
Betty insists that my arthritis will go down and that I will feel like a new, young, vital woman. (What are they teaching you in those yoga classes? Do you have to sniff glue before you come? Sheesh!)
IT'S ALMOST TIME!!! She's at week 39!!! I think the picture says the rest!!! God Bless!!
1 year ago