Sunday, February 21, 2016
Sunday Morning Ramblings...Completely Off Topic!
30 +/- years ago, when our family of four leggeds was increasing, people were ripping old clawfoot bathtubs out while remodeling and many of them turned up as troughs in pastures. We rescued a few of these unwanted bargains ourselves with that same thought. Over the years we've also seen them full of garden blooms, in classrooms with pillows inside for kids to relax in with a book, or cut out on one side to make a settee. Years earlier, I spent a summer in a quirky old rental in Washington helping Mom take care of my injured sister, and always kept in mind how comfy that old tub was. I'm one of those girls who likes a nice deep swim with a good book.
Years after that summer, we bought a quirky old 1911 house, and as our four legged family continued to grow, so did our 2 legged family. One bathroom was not enough and an old upstairs sleeping porch became our "Master" Bathroom on a budget. One of our old clawfoot tubs, none of which had ever made it out of the barn and into the pasture, was selected for its less generous collection of dings and complete set of feet. I'll never forget the groaning, grunting and worrying as we turned that cast iron beast over onto it's rolled top edge, then pushed and dragged it up our long narrow staircase.
I've painted the outside of it 3 times in the years since it was installed. As for the inside, one can clean all they want, but there is nothing short of having it refinished that will ever remove the old pitted spots from generations of use.
This morning, in my efforts to clean the old fancy footed gal up, I was hanging over that rolled top edge reaching into the depths, scrubbing soap scum with of my treasured "sorcerer's sponges" and a memory came to mind.
Cleaning house and trying to get 5 kids to all help and be productive at the same time was often like herding cats and an exercise in patience and, more often futility. Of course the elder ones, the "Informers", were guaranteed to point out that the younger ones were slacking and weren't doing their fair share...or at least not the way they would have done it. On one of those occasions, I told one of those little slackers "you need to use some elbow grease!" Without missing a beat, the little slacker asked, "Where do you get that?!?!" and with that, the "Informers" and I were nearly rolling on the floor and dearest little slacker was looking at us, wide eyed, still wondering where we kept the elbow grease!
Isn't it funny the memories that come back to you when you're hanging over the top edge of a beloved old tub, with all the blood running into your head?
Lovely Sunday To You...