FOWC: Control.



The picture is not at all relevant but I like it. It is underneath the M50 motorway heading towards Ross on Wye in Herefordshire; I was working there one day a couple of years ago.

The day has been a long one and I’ve just been sitting in a bath, way too deep for me and way too hot for me; I was sort of hunched up at one end on my knees and toes, sweating profusely with the window open only a slither onto the track just allowing a gentle breeze through the gap which helped a little bit.

Since we’ve had this bathroom I have struggled to enjoy the new bath as I haven’t yet worked out how quickly it fills up and  I keep over filling it with water, hot water. I then have to open the plug, let some water out and pour in some cold to make the soak more to my liking. At this moment in time I am seriously wondering if I actually like baths any more, I used to, they were one of my favourite things to do after work but now, well I’m not so sure.

I genuinely feel that my new bathroom has a control over me; it is very much in charge and indeed it seems to charge on unperturbed with how I like to bathe, and more to do with how it wants me to bathe. The sink, will spit from the sides if I turn on the tap to quickly, and the bath fills up with hot water too quickly and I always seem to miss the optimum time to come in and pull rank by mixing with the cold.

We haven’t sorted the shower screening yet but the water pressure up in the bathroom is so powerful that it promises to be a real belter; a proper power shower. That I can not wait for; the completely out of control shower will rule the upstairs bathroom I think, and maybe I can try to figure out how to keep the bath and sink under control while my skin prickles under the spears of shower water.


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