True Confession #297 (Or have I done that one already?)

I must preface this confession with another....

For the longest time, I actually thought I was a fairly practical person.  In the last fifteen years or so, I've learned that I'm a repressed romantic.  That's right.  I have to be practical most of the time, just by token of where I live and my occupation...ranchwife, parent and school clerk.  But deep down inside, I'm entirely frivolous. I'm sure you'd already guessed that....

So here's the confession:

With all my heart, I long for a clawfoot tub.

Outside.

Of course there would be privacy drapings all around it and plants and all that nonsense; maybe some deep glass candle holders....

And I realize I live in Montana where the wind blows 362 days a year, generally carrying weeds and dirt.

Whatever.

I adore clawfoot tubs, just for their elegance and graceful lines.  Being a tallish sort of girl, I also adore that they hold enough water to cover me to my chin, like no frugal, save-the-earth-by-using-less-water, modern tubs.  No knees sticking out!  I adore the hardware for the faucets, handles and drain....so richly styled, so heavy and substanitive.

I can think of no greater luxury than to have a deep, hot bubble bath and glass of wine under the stars, listening to the country put itself to sleep. Or a cool bath in the late afternoon of summer, after weeding all 8 flower beds.  Aaahhhh....

I found a picture in Sunset magazine when Wayland and I were first married, of a tub such as this, but I'm quite sure it was in Portland or Seattle or some other civilized place.  I clipped it out and filed it, but couldn't find it to scan for this post.  It's quite possibly filed under something like "European Notions" or "Easy Summer Projects". Somewhere very logical....

Isn't that the most impractical thing? 

Isn't it a wonderful thought?

Someday, maybe....