There are few things as good as a good massage. My top massage of late has been at the Rachawadee Spa where the ladies, direct from Thiland, climb all over your back digging their elbows and knees into the spots that need it, and feel it, the most. But this massage isn’t for woeses nor is it really for pregnant women. So yesterday I cashed-in the voucher I had been given as a birthday present for a ‘preggie massage’. My meseus was like a nice big slice of Christmas Cake- sweet but not my taste. And, though more pressure would have been nice, let’s just say I’m glad she wasn’t climbing on my back. It was one of those massages where you can count along together in silence; slide along here 2, 3, 4 slide along there, 2, 3, 4. But after a while I stopped counting and slid off along memory lane on the fragrances of orange blossom which filled the room.
As I near the third trimester of my pregnancy and my feet begin to swell, I think I’ll be treating myself to more massages but, like a well practiced meseus, I’ll have to keep feeling around till I find the perfect spot.
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