“Cats aren't clean, they're just covered with cat spit”

In which we sink to new depths of triviality

One of the many improvements to my everyday life that Barbara left me is a restored fondness for a bath. Oh I used to love to sit in the bath for ages back in the old married days, but when I moved in here I was all for the quick fix, the shortcut, the lazy route. Consequently a quick shower was all I had for years. (To be entirely truthful the fact that the bath taps were so old and corroded that they could only produce a trickle was a major factor too). My brother installed new taps for me, in preparation for Barbara's visit (but this being a house of horrors , the water pressure still means I can read a short novel, a novella if you will, whilst it is filling) and now I can enjoy that back to the womb immersion in hot water we all love. Combined with a good radio show it's a perfect way to spend time.

(I suspect that when the temperature falls below zero in there later in the year, I might not be so upbeat).

“Marriage is like a hot bath. Once you get used to it, it's not so hot.”