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Wheatland County Line (Acoustic Version)

This morning I took another bath in the 8-foot clawfoot tub I remember using as a small child in my grandmother's house. My cousin Debbie and her husband Monty bought the house after my grandmother died. The bathroom that seemed huge to me when I was young is now normal-sized, or maybe even small. The tub dominates the room. Grandma Huff was short and round. her long grey hair was braided about her head except when she was ready for bed, or had taken a bath. Grandma raised four children pretty much on her own, and owned a business back when that was extremely unusual. She gave the best hugs a child could get, and was there to listen when I needed to talk. One of the hardest things about living in Massachusetts was being so far away from her. Much about the house is as I remember it: the white picket fence between the garage and the house, the dark wood pillars separating the dining room from the living room, the kitchen, and of course the tub. No other tub comes close in its ability to make a bath a wonderful relaxing and cleansing experience. I wash my hair in the water running from the faucet to fill the tub, lather up my body, rinse off and stew for a while. My stretched-out legs don't begin to bump up against the faucet. They float, I float in a warm water heaven until the water starts to cool down. I dry off, more than ready to take on whatever the day has to offer. Today, that means a trip to see the Mission Mountains, and hopefully an open mic tonight.

Comments

June 14, 2012 @08:25 am These are great reading. Thanks so much. An eight foot tub sounds like heaven... Greg Alexander
June 12, 2012 @07:06 am I don't remember the tub, but do remember playing Scrabble in Grandma's house - and, usually, losing... Donna

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