A precious night at home. Dinner is angel hair pasta with ragu and a large glass of red wine, eaten in front of a pretty bad movie. Tomorrow I go to the beach – tonight is for relaxing. I decide to run a bath – then look with raised eyebrows at a soap scummy tub floor. A shower of Comet, a large purple sponge, and I lean into my work and scrub. It’s a cheap plastic shower stall – not very well made – but the wine is making me feel maternal towards my rickety old house, and I while away half an hour working grime out of every crevice, looking with love on the crappy bathroom that I bought, the room where I do my daily ablutions, rub sleep out of my eyes every bleary morning, and apparently slough off some pretty nasty muck. The places where people get clean require such constant maintenance. I start to work up a metaphor for life out of my eternal scrubbery, and then give it up. Sometimes a scrub is just a scrub.
I’m glad I decided not to go to the beach tonight.
Just wanted to stop by and say a quick hello. It meant so much to have you at the wedding and your observations/comments made me cry. So sweet and touching. It means so much that people really noticed how much my family means to me and how lucky I am to have Michael.
Now, how many more days until your big day, almost Mrs.? Can you believe it is almost here? YAY!
Amanda 🙂
I love it "sometimes a scrub is just a scrub." I hope the tanning salon goes better next time. Maybe you should try the spray on booth instead. ; ) I imagine that tanning crap spraying all over is nervewracking too. That is why I have a ghastly "farmers" tan. Hope the beach was fun!