Len Sherman - Blog
My brain doesn't seem to work as well as it once did since the operations, radiation and chemo treatments about two years ago and I just realized that I'd forgotten to draw a winner's name for a wooden sign ($15. value) for subscribing to my blog. I just drew a name out of a hat and the winner is Kim Atkinson - congratulations Kim and I'll be personally contacting you immediately! I've decided to have another draw for a sign of the same value to be held on Valentine's Day. All you have to do is sign up for my blog and share - people already signed up have their name in the hat.
I've been debating whether or not I should have a hot bath today. I don't know about anyone else but having a hot bath is something I've always enjoyed. And I'm not just talking hot, I'm talking a lobster red hot bath. If it was any hotter, I'd be nicely boiled - just punch some cloves into the tender meat and sprinkle some hot spices over me and I'm ready to be served - a hungry cannibal just might enjoy munching away on one of my arms and then picking his teeth with a finger bone. I often knock back an ice cold beer while reading a book to pass the time. I once read Tolstoy's War and Peace, 837 pages, in a single soaking and looked like a wrinkled prune when I emerged from under the bubbles. I've had some naughty baths too, the water sprinkled with rose petals and champagne was the drink of choice. The water of course wasn't as hot because I had company then, and then again - hahaha - it did get rather heated up. However, as much as I enjoy hot baths, I'm not sure if I should turn up the heat in the old claw-foot because the last bath I had about five days ago, didn't quite have the happy ending I expected. At almost age 80 - a battle with cancer - when I very gingerly lifted one leg out of the tub, I felt a little light-headed. Trying to fight off the dizziness, I flopped down in a chair by the tub and stuck my head between my lily-white knees. Thinking I was in the clear, after a few moments passed, I sat up. I felt quite hot as the pesky dizziness returned. The next thing I knew when I came to, I was lying on my side in a fetal position on the cold floor, the towel tangled up around my body. The coolness felt great but not my head or my jaw. As I lay there kinda twisted up and getting my bearings, I began checking to see if my legs and arms would move. They seemed OK as I slowly managed to pick myself up off the floor. I guess the moral of this little tale is whether or not I should have a real hot bath alone or get my wife to join me - that way I'd have someone to help me out of the tub...cheers, eh!
Len Sherman is an artist and author in Fosterville, NB, Canada. He spent his first 70 years on the west coast of Canada and now resides with his wife and little dog on 50 rural acres in western NB. Life is good, but even better when you read his work or view his art!