whistling pipes

the view from the tub

Yesterday, for various reasons I could barely move. After a restless night tossing and turning with back pain I could not get out of bed. In addition, I had quite literaly a pain in the bottom. This makes sitting in a wheelchair even more challenging than usual, Unfortunately being in bed or sitting in the shower ceased to be tolerable as well.

In the end it was resolved after some discussion that a bath in which I could float was the ticket.

I have not lived in a home with a bath for at least five years — although I often stayed in one in England a few years back.

I live in a single bed apartment in the “inner west” of Sydney with a shower which as I said wasn’t doing the trick.

However, PB has just settled on a place a few kilometres up the road; a two bedroom double brick 1930’s cottage with lovely art deco features throughout and a nice modern accessiblish kitchen (I’m happy). It also has a 1960’s bath tub which was perfect for the task.

So the help of a trusted friend was enlisted (the house has a bad step ramp currently — to be corrected in coming weeks), and I was delicately shipped off to the house to ease my ills.

The bath was indeed sublime and the ideal antedote to my ills. The bath was the exact replica of many a bath I had enjoyed at my grandmother’s house as a after our journeys to Sydney from the country where I passed my child and teen years from 8 years old. It was a pleasent memory and one I enjoyed.

In addition the photo is as the caption suggests the view from the tub in mid morning light, even now in late Autumn. Very

the view from the tub


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Categories: Musings, self
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