The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
Sleeping requires me to get all my ducks in a row
A full night’s sleep, Rab learns, is guaranteed only – magically – by a bath before bedtime. He has his plastic fish and ceramic dolphin from BHS and they guide him unerringly to dreamland
Like many people in top executive positions (I jest), sometimes I have trouble sleeping at night (I don’t jest). I always get off to sleep in seconds, usually listening to audio recordings of The Lord of the Rings. But, in the middle of the night, I wake up and can’t get back to sleep.
Recently, I read that this was natural and was how people had always experienced the night. In olden times, they’d get up and make turnip soup or clean or wish they had a book to read, then go back to bed an hour later.
I guess they went to bed earlier, too, rather than staying up to stare at screens. Other than starving to death or being killed, they didn’t have much to worry about, either, not like we do.
But my point (reader’s voice: “He has a point! It’s a miracle!”) is that I have found that having a bath before bedtime really does help you to sleep the whole night through.
I’ve done it a few times recently, and it has worked every time. My understanding of the mysterious force controlling the universe is that it will soon notice this and stop it from working.
But, for the time being, it’s been grand. Will I do it every night, though? No. The trouble with having a bath is all the terrible effort involved. You have to run the water and everything.
But, once you’re in, you don’t regret it. As well as running the water, I light a few candles and find some soothing music on the radio.
I don’t have bubble bath but have put shampoos (which I never use on my hair), sunscreen, brown sauce and whatnot in, with pretty satisfying results, apart from the resultant rashes, fevers and my hair standing on end for days afterwards.
Another little ritual I have involves, as you might imagine, a plastic fish and a ceramic dolphin. The fish was given to me as a gift. It winds up and swims through the water briefly.
At one time, someone must have thought: “That will be the perfect gift for Rab.”
The ceramic dolphin was an impulse purchase from the old BHS, and occurred when I thought to myself: “What I need right now in my life is a ceramic dolphin.”
These two marine beasties sit by the side of the bath and, usually, the only water they get comes in splashes from the shower. But every time I have a bath I feel an obligation to let them share it.
Am I anthropomorphising? Madam, I am. Blame Walt Disney. I expect that, if I am to carry on this bathing malarkey, I really ought to invest in a rubber duck. I will ask the bank what they think.
In the meantime, duck or no duck, I have been enjoying my soaks. The most difficult thing is getting the temperature right. Too hot is scary, too cold a disappointment.
But, if you can master these ancient skills, a relaxing time can be had. Then, after allowing some time for your barnet to dry, you amble upstairs, bung the bonce on the pillow and, next thing, it is eight hours later and you are ready to face a new day with a hey-nonny-no.