Death Bed*

“I’m just going to find some clean gym clothes – the purple set – and then when you leave I can go to the gym,” I say to Mum.  We’re at the flat.  Mum is helping me to change my bed.  In fact, Mum is changing my bed and I’m sitting on the floor, watching.

“I don’t see why you need to go to the gym now,” Mum says, sitting on the edge of the bed, buttoning the duvet cover.  “You went for a walk this morning and a bike ride yesterday and saw your trainer the three days prior to that and…”

“I’ll feel better if I go to the gym,” I say.  “Lift some weights, write my blog on the bike, do…”

“It would be better for you to stay here and tidy your flat,” Mum says.  “There’s no need to be untidy and…”

“I’m not untidy,” I say.  Anyway: my cleaner was at the flat on Friday and I’ve been at the parental home ever since then.

“You’re a bit untidy,” Mum says, putting my animals back on top of the bed.

“Everyone’s a bit untidy,” I say.  

“I suppose so,” Mum says.  “Put these away.”  She hands me the knickers, socks and tops from the airer.

So, I’m sitting on my bike at the gym, writing.  My Sunday evening exercise session is establishing itself as a part of my routine, and am pleased about this. Writing the blog whilst on the bike kills two birds with one stone and it’s a peaceful time of day to be here.  The music isn’t too obtrusive.  Can hear the thud-thud-thud of the crosstrainers behind me and the rumble of the treadmills.

The panther lies on the floor in front of my bike.  He’s grooming himself: licking his right forepaw with his rough tongue and wiping his head with the wet paw, over and over again.  He looks clean enough to me.

It’s good to be in a social environment and yet on my own.  Will work up an appetite for supper here, and even achieve a fifteen minute walk in the fresh air back to the flat.

The dahlia in the attached photo is ‘Barbarry Banker’, with added bee.

Happy Sunday everyone!
*2011.  By Leigh Russell.  A D.I. Geraldine Steel mystery.  Book 4 in the series.

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