My shoulders ache. Handsome Hubby’s got a twinge in his lower back. Oh, how we long to see our beloved masseuse Bobbi. But, of course, that’s not happening.

I tried rubbing HH’s back. He tried rubbing my shoulders. “A” for effort on both our parts, but “C” for execution. It was pleasant. It was loving. But gifted Masseuse Bobbi we ain’t.

We’ve tried stretching. We’ve tried roller balls. And we’ve tried a mentholated massage gel which stank, burned, and chilled us to the bone but provided little muscle relief.

So, we called Bobbi and said “How about a Zoom massage? Talk us through a session and we’ll see if it helps. We’ll pay. We’re desperate.”

She laughed, said it was a novel idea, and while she believed in the power of positive thinking, she had her doubts about a Zoom massage. Instead, she recommended doing a little more stretching and maybe throwing in a few deep breathing exercises.

Oh, well. We tried.

Sitting around, lamenting our aching and decaying bodies, we remembered — with no small amount of envy — an old friend of Jon’s in another town. That fellow married a masseuse. She was great. A great person and a great masseuse. We all went to her for bodywork. Man, she’d be a great person to shelter-in-place with! And if I recall correctly, she also was a gourmet chef.

Oh, well. So goes Day 43. Maybe if I try a little positive thinking, my shoulder pain will go away AND I’ll become a better cook too!