Soap Bubbles

I am a "glass half full" kinda person.
A "there is always a silver lining" thinker.
Generally don't get upset if "all's well that ends well."

Except when it comes to the Custome Home.

I have had a REAL hard time finding the love for this place.

I LOVE the land....and am most grateful for the roof over my head--don't get me wrong.

But not wild about the house.
In SOOOoooo many ways.

Now, the cool thing about the land is that it is one of the first four homesteads that established this county 150 years ago.  Lots of history in these parts, and i dig that.

But back in the '80's the original homestead was destroyed.  At the time, the owners were very, very old, and i suspect that the house was built as "cost effectively" as possible because the folks were not expected to live much longer.  Turns out they spent less than three years here before one passed and the other moved in with family, and the land, that had been in the same family all that time, was sold.

I could go on an on about the....um...difficulties with this house.  But i won't.  Because i am so very happy to have a home at all.  (There is a story there, about how it came to be my home, but i will save that for another day.  Lets just say i wasn't on board at the onset.)  And it does have a set of built in shelves in the pantry that were made specifically for canning jars.  I do like that.  Only works well for quarts, but still...

Probably the thing i hate most is the master bath.  If you care to call it that. 

I am a bath person. 
I am a bath TUB person.
In fact, i think it is fair to say that i am a lounging in a claw foot tub person.

Before Jed, i rented a house one time based solely on the bathtub. 
The house itself was okay enough, but the tub was a thing of beauty.
It was long and wide, with a perfect slope at the back, knobs that you could operate with your toes to adjust the water temp as needed, and a lovely, oh so lovely wide ledge on the side for my books and water glass or coffee cup, and all the smell-goods and girly stuff ya gotta have in the tub.
Oh, that was such a great tub. 

The Custome Home has a shower stall.
The cheapest, smallest, barely passes the minimum OSHA requirements acrylic shower stall.

There is a small ledge at about 4 feet high.  Just enough that you can easily knock off a bottle each of shampoo and conditioner.

Every time i drop the soap and bend over to pick it up, the door pops open.
I have quit shaving my legs because it is just plain impossible to do.  MAYBE when i was 20, but not now.

And it is acrylic.  I HATE acrylic.
And TINY.

This morning, however, i found the silver lining in such a small shower.

I started to slip.

And ya know how when something like that starts to happen, how ya have that split second where you can see it all before it happens?

I saw myself goin' down.

And then i stopped.

My feet only splayed about three inches before they were stopped by the sides of the shower.

Disaster was averted.

The silver lining was revealed to me.

My shower is too small to fall in.

Isn't that great?