I found this picture on my computer. This was the tin tub that we took baths in until I was probably in junior high (it follows that this was what my parents bathed in for perhaps 10 years). I can remember the water hose that became too hot to touch when we filled it up. I remember the feeling of the cold tile on my feel when I would step out. I remember the clinking noises that the walls of the tub would make with our bath toys. And yes, I remember taking baths with Jay. . . barely.
Nostalgia is a funny thing. It takes all the hard edges off memories. I'm very much a fan of proper showers and instant hot water that can become instantly mixed with cold. I enjoy carpet under my feet and coffee within 5 minutes of waking up. I don't really miss huddling up close to the wood burning stove to thaw out our jeans on winter mornings. But I know I loved it. I even loved brushing the "daddy long leg" spiders off the twisted, knobby fire wood (the smell of the freshly cut pieces would always mean winter to me) stacked in uneasy rows in the wood shed. . .