January is a good month. So far. I’ve got enough fire wood, water jugs are full, cabin is warm, and I joined the ranks of those with access to the swimming pool and jacuzzi. That, in itself, is worth 365 days of hauling water. When the time comes that the well is full, a horse trough – all 6 feet of it – will go in the new bathroom. There will be a stock tank heater in place to keep the gallons warm as long as I feel like soaking, and I jokingly promise a pack of koi to maintain the scum if I decide to never let it be empty. I like the thought of 2 a.m. soaks, being able to slide down into the warm depths and lay there, in silence and candlelight, for hours on end if I want. I’m a tub ‘ho, to be blunt. I think of it as a status symbol for those who know the luxury of tub soaking. There’s something to be said for immersing yourself up to your neck, for laying back and letting your torso float, your legs hang limp, and floating — under your own roof. It’s like spa time for free. What can I say – I love to tub.
And that’s about all I have to say about January so far. It took me a bowl of popcorn and an ice cold Pepsi to share it with you, but it was worth it. Now it’s to bed with a movie after I stoke the fire and brush my teeth. Sometimes when you’re home alone life is good. I am content.