Our current apartment is brand new. This is the second time in our married life that we’ve been the first tenants of a new apartment, and we consider it to be the reward we earned from the previous, nasty apartment. It is surprisingly easy to keep clean a home that was clean to begin with. I also marvel, daily, at how easy it is to keep clean a carpet that started stain-free and isn’t daily trodden upon by people wearing shoes, and that our daily activities don’t involve feeding countless children who roam the premises, food in hand (and out of hand…) It makes me feel better about my own housekeeping abilities now that I’m only cleaning up after my own, and not after everyone I know.
On Saturday, after we took a day trip to the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth (further than I thought, but worth it,) went to a bbq place to celebrate being done with our old apartment and done with California traffic school, and visited with the neighbours, we put the boys to bed and Paul suggested I take a long bath in our brand new soaking tub.
I did just that.
I had to rummage for a while to find something that would make bubbles, but I found a small bottle of something I’d received for Christmas a few years back and never used (for obvious reasons.)
I even brought my phone into the bathroom and set it to an album Paul’s brother claims is great for putting the kids to sleep in the car. (Bon Iver.)
I can’t speak for the music for it was only the wallpaper of my world.
I settled into the bath and listened to the bubbles pop beside my head.
We’re supposed to be house hunting. But if for whatever reason we have to stay here longer than we had planned, I think that’ll be just fine with me.