rub a dub dub
rub a dub dub
looking for materials in a world full of products
My life could be so much simpler if I just bought the acrylic tub. This tub saga is no surprise to me. Need to know something about bathtubs? I’m your gal. I know more about bathtubs than I ever wanted to know. Just like I know more about grass fed butter and well water and cheese rennet and food packaging and shoes. All of these things that seem, to me, impossible to just walk into a store and buy without hours of research behind them.
Where does that come from? I don’t know. Maybe if I lived like they did in the “Little House in the Prairie” series, I could just get on my trusty stead once every six months and go to the good shopkeeper in town and pick up my galvanized tub to dunk my stinky bits into once a week. There would be only one tub. Just like there would be only a few bolts of fabric and a meagre selection of buttons. The salt and the sugar was the salt and the sugar. There wasn’t iodized, pretend-salt and genetically modified