A leg cramp, a labradoodle, and an unexpected view of the world

As I compose this blog entry in my mind, I am lying on the laundry room floor, staring at the ceiling. Another leg cramp has brought me down, but unlike the one that brought so much levity to a room full of canasta-playing women, this one struck while I was alone, bending to move laundry from the washing machine into the dryer.

Barb, usually my savior in these situations, is away for most of the afternoon enjoying a “day of beauty.” With no one here to massage my leg, I know I’ll remain on this floor until the tightness eases enough for me to bend my knee and pull myself upright.

Cooper the labradoodle is scratching at the laundry room door. I keep it closed when I’m in here; otherwise a sock or T-shirt will be in his mouth before I can slam the washing machine shut. And if the dryer door is open, he’ll immediately claim a dryer ball, his favorite prize. Even if I let him in, there isn’t much he could do to help me, and I’d rather avoid having my face licked while immobilized on the floor.

Lying here gives me an unusual vantage point. I can see the dead bugs lining the glass dome of the overhead light fixture. Cleaning that just moved onto my to-do list, though I doubt I’ll feel much like climbing ladders today. I’ve always thought I did a good job cleaning the dryer’s lint trap, but from down here I can see a layer of lint collecting along the bottom edge of the dryer door. At least that’s something I can clean without getting up.

With my bottom on the floor and time on my hands, I dig my phone out of my pocket. I rarely listen to audiobooks at home, saving them for car rides and Cooper walks, but this seems like the appropriate time and place for my latest thriller. I rest the phone on my stomach and, without earbuds, turn up the volume enough for the hero’s murder investigation to echo through the laundry room.

Even with the novel going through my head, I wonder what caused today’s spasm. Was it yesterday’s first round of golf of the season? The stops and starts of eight games of pickleball this morning? Dehydration? Or did I simply twist the wrong way moving laundry from one machine to the other?

The pain is easing now. I can begin to flex. I’ll let Cooper in, press the start button on the dryer, and go on with my day.

All is well…until the next time.