Relax? Who me?

RHYS BOWEN:  An interviewer once asked me “is there anything you do badly? And off the top of my head I replied “Ironing.”  This is true. I dislike ironing and I’m not good at it. Because of this any linen item in my closet will be worn once each summer, then lie hopefully in the basket waiting to be ironed.

But on consideration the answer should have been RELAX.  I am not good at relaxing. I admit it. We have been to one of those all-inclusive resorts in the Caribbean or Mexico and on the first morning I can sit under a palapa and order a pina colada while I admire the swimming pool. By the second morning I’m saying to John, “there is a Spanish class at 11 and a kayak tour at noon….”

I suppose I’ve been conditioned to keep busy after having to drive a carpool to the kid’s school then the toddler to pre-school, come home clean house and write five pages before picking up from pre-school, return car pool, driving kids to their various sports before making dinner, putting kids to bed etc.

I’ve been busy for most of my life. I have tried relaxing. I once asked for a fish tank for my birthday. Watching tropical fish is soothing, no? John bought me the tank, we stocked it with lovely fish and he also bought me a book on fish disease. That last thing was a fatal mistake. I’d stare at them: why is that one swimming funny? Is that spot on that fish possibly the Ik disease? Then I’d thumb through the book getting worried they were all going to die. One day the children knocked over the tank. Fish all over the floor. End of experiment.

I’ve tried doing things that other people do to relax: facials and pedicures. I lie there on the table while the young woman puts cucumbers over my eyes and then intones, “first we’re going to gently exfoliate with ground mango pit and crushed beetle shells…. “ while she gently massages and strokes my face. I tell myself this is lovely. Perfect. A great way to spend a morning until….wait, that scene in the book. The character would never have said that. Rewrite. And when I get home I promised that reviewer a book and I never sent it… You get the picture. I feel I’m wasting precious time having someone else stroke my face.

What made me think of this today was that I came home last night on a flight that was two hours late and got in near midnight. So today I decided to have a completely relaxing day.  I went down to the bathroom and ran a bath. My kids are always giving me lovely bath products as presents. Today I opened the Himalayan Pink Salt soak, infused with lavender and chamomile. Lots of pink crystals cascade into the tub, together with what I presume are lavender buds. They float all over the surface looking like an invasion of ants or some other kind of insect about to hatch. My one thought is “these are going to clog the pipe when I drain the tub. Must get them out.”  So now the debate is do I get out of the tub, go upstairs and find a strainer, or do I try to rescue as many of what looks like dying ants as possible. I try the latter, scooping them up until they cover my hands, then wiping my hands on a tissue. It is a long, laborious process. By the end of the soak I have rounded up many of them.  I drain the tub. My pristine bath now has a layer of pink grime on the bottom with the last dying lavender buds stuck to the sides. Hence I have to clean the bathtub.

So much for relaxation. It’s overrated anyway.

PS. I've just been to Hawaii for a few days. I did relax. It was brilliant!

Are you good at relaxing? Any tips on how to wind down and not think about all the things I should be doing?