Whoo-whee, it’s hot tonight. I’m shriveling in the upstairs heat like a raisin in the sun. And for an old Alabama girl, who can remember life without air-conditioning, when we slept in cotton pajamas, sprawled in front of an electric fan, that’s saying a lot. My grandmother had a fan that blew air over ice cubes, and when we came in hot and sweaty from the backyard, we stood in front of that fan until our faces tingled. Well, I’m sitting in front of a fan in an air-conditioned house, but I’m not tingling. As I said, it’s mighty hot.
It’s cooler downstairs where I usually work, but I kept getting interrupted by the dog or the kids or the laundry, so I had a brainstorm and moved the computer up to the master bathroom- the only room in the house that is too big for its britches. I’m not sure what the previous owners and builders of this house had in mind for this room, but it’s way too large for the purpose of bathing and -well- meditating on the throne. So I thought, “Why not?”, and ordered a desk for my bathroom. As I said, the room is plenty big…So here I am, writing my first bathroom blog. I have no doubts about what Martha Stewart would think about this, but, since I can’t afford the price of her magazine, who cares? Erma Bombeck would sympathize. Sometimes doing a strange thing is necessary to keep the soul healthy.
