I went to see an osteopath today; more specifically
I went to the British School of Osteopathy, where you get treated by 4th
year students, but pay ridiculously small sums for the experience; about 20
quid for a session. It’s well worth it.
My student osteopath was called Barry, and he was brilliant.
Maybe all osteopaths are brilliant – I’ve nothing really to compare him to – but he
very quickly seemed to work out what was wrong. There’s an area of my spine
which has apparently been frozen for some time, with the vertebrae above and
below working overtime to compensate.
He prodded and poked for a while, and tapped my
spine, which was apparently hollow-sounding in the affected area. He asked me
to lie on the bed, wrapped his arms around mine and suddenly and very sharply
twisted. Clllllick. The sound was like a machine gun. I immediately burst into
peels of hysterical laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that much. It was
the shock, I suppose, and the ridiculous noise, because it didn’t hurt in the
slightest. Apparently many people either laugh or cry when they get “popped.”
It triggers a nerve which goes direct to the brain and screams, “react! React!”
I’m apparently to expect some soreness at some
point and a lot of stiffness in the morning, but I’m excited to see what
difference it’s made.
On the 9th January 1663, Pepys got into
a pretty major row with Elizabeth, triggered by the news that their ex-servant,
Sarah, was spreading gossip about the Pepyses around London. Elizabeth broke
down in tears and said that she’d been telling servants her deepest secrets
because she'd no one else to talk to, poor lamb. Pepys was initially
sympathetic, until Elizabeth pulled out a letter (written in English) which
basically outlined all Pepys’ faults whilst declaring how miserable she’d
become. She’d written the letter some time ago, but thought better of sending
it.
Pepys was incensed that she’d effectively written a
document which could have turned him into a laughing stock if it made its way
into the wrong hands. He tore the letter up whilst Elizabeth pleaded with him.
He then went into her secret chest and tore up every single letter and document
she’d kept over the years; the tokens of love, the little poems, and the letters
he’d written to her whilst at sea. All were ripped up in front of her, and then
burnt in a display of unacceptable cruelty. The only things he couldn’t bring
himself to destroy were the marriage certificates and the very first love letter
he’d sent to her.
All was well again by the 13th January,
when Elizabeth and Pepys hosted a pretty mega dinner party with “oysters, a
hash of rabbits, a lamb, a rare chine of beef, a great dish of roasted fowl, a
tart and then fruit and cheese.” Pepys was thrilled with the evening. The house
looked neat and tidy with good fires in all the rooms. After eating, the women withdrew
to play cards and the gentlemen went to Pepys’ chamber, because the fire in the
dining room had started to smoke!
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