I’m living on a farm at the moment. In Wales. It’s pretty remote, and possibly the place I would have thought the least similar to my home town. But actually it’s not too dissimilar, and it’s giving me both warm fuzzies and a bit of a heart pang.
I had a bath this evening, and here they have a proper bath room. It has a bath in the centre of the room, a sink, and an armchair for a gently talkative companion to relax into. All around the bath are potted trees. Beside the taps is a small orange tree, and tonight I plucked some leaves and blossoms off to scent the bathwater. The ceiling is glass, and the view is spectacular. Nothing beats the sky at night in the country.
The BF came in for a kiss but then left me to my own devices. I love that he knows me, and as inseparable as we are, he still knows when to step off.
I finally got the bathwater to the ideal temperature. I do enjoy extremely hot showers, but there is nothing worse than lying in the bath sweating. It’s gross, so I upped the cold ante. I lay back and read my Diana Mitford book in the candlelight.
Half an hour later I look back and I have the thought that I’ve never had a more beautiful bath in my entire life. Possibly the most beautiful and relaxing experience of my life. I’m always out of my comfort zone, travelling, but here I was content, and my mind still. As still as it’s ever going to get. It was heavenly.