So today (well, technically yesterday), about 7:30pm or so, I went to my Mom's to feed the cats since she was out of town. And I was there, at the house, and looked through some of my stuff I still have there (some of which I need to just throw away, sadly, but it was neat to look through) and I thought: I could take a bath.

Now let me explain, my little apartment has no bathtub. I have a stand up shower, but no bathtub--and I used to *love* taking baths.

So I decided what the hell, and I found a book I still had there. (I have two sets of books there that are some of my favorites, both series now out of print, the Twelve Treasures trilogy from Rosemary Edghill, which I always thought was meant to have more books to it, and a duology about Guinevere by an author I can't recall right now--Child Queen and High Queen.) I also managed to find a big bath ball that someone had given me and I had so loved that I had been breaking pieces off for my baths (instead of using the whole thing at once). Anyway, I grabbed the second book of the Edghill trilogy, three quarters of a bath ball (all that was left of it) and took a bath.

A three hour bath.

Oh yeah, my feet were prunes and I'm totally re-sucked into the whole Ruth and Melior thing (I had just gotten to the bit where she winds up with Fox in the woods--after she loses Melior after finally finding him again, and after Nic Brightlaw winds up giving up most of his life to the firedrake).

But it totally rocked. I was totally relaxed and my skin still feels all soft and silky. I am never again getting an apartment without a bathtub.