Trudy Andrew | Canadian Author

Tails From the Farm

Things That are Lost

Life on the farm, raising kids, doing the things that are handed your way, can be expensive. We never had extra money hanging around, so we bought used or most certainly, on sale. Hunting for the best deal, is something we’ve gotten very good at. If it’s not on sale, we don’t even look at it. True Manitobans want a deal. True Manitobans that have to watch every penny, need a deal.
Our home was built in the forties out of odds and ends, and I swear that there’s not a square wall, in the whole place. Still, it’s home, where we raised our children and Morgan horses, and it’s where the heart is. Most repairs, whether home or vehicle, we did ourselves. This became far easier as our children grew, as they were great helpers.
We had what undoubtedly was, the ugliest bathroom ever. The cabinet doors were alternating pale greenish-blue and white, or whitish, because I don’t think you could honestly call what it was, white. Anyway, this ugly bathroom of ours, with its silver and blue metallic wallpaper and peeling tub tiles, always bothered me. To that end, I began to collect the parts needed, to renovate it. Our boychild got a job at a big lumber store, and when tubs came on sale, soaker tubs nonetheless, which was my dream, we picked one up with the bonus of his employee discount. On sale and an employee discount as well, is pretty sweet indeed. I didn’t have all the rest of the components collected, but a tub was a big start. Sure, in a perfect world, it would’ve been a clawfoot tub, but beggars can’t be choosers, and there wasn’t room in our small bathroom for it anyway. The tub came home, and we put it away for the future.
Over the next few years, I found the rest of the things we needed, on sale of course, and we decided it was time to get at it. The bathroom was stripped of all fixtures. Repairs were made to the floor where there was a hole, and the boychild was zapped by a bare wire, someone had left in the wall, who knows when. The new floor was installed, as well as aqua wall and paintable wallpaper, then the new fixtures were installed. There was the new toilet, a lovely vanity with marble top, mirror and cabinet. But, before we could go any further, the bathtub had to be installed. The soaker tub I had dreamed of lounging in, was finally going to be where it needed to be, and long, hot baths were in my near future. It was exciting times. Until I couldn’t find the tub.
Sure, we’d purchased it seven years before, but it was a tub. A large tub, one can’t simply lose a tub, can they? As it turns out, I can. It was to be installed that weekend, in just two days’ time, and I couldn’t find it anywhere. I searched everywhere. In the quonset, the attic of the garage, the outbuildings, everywhere, but it was nowhere to be found. I finally phoned the girlchild, as I certainly didn’t want to let on to the hubby that I’d lost the bathtub. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember where it had been put, either. Well, maybe it had been stolen. After all, it was a splendid tub, anyone would want to steal such a tub as that.
I couldn’t give up. I had to find it. I called the boychild. Did he remember where we’d stored it? Nope, sure didn’t. Well darn, what in the world did we do with it? I even searched the tack room, as if a big, white tub might be hidden in a dark corner, as if. Walking around the yard late the Friday afternoon that they wanted to install the tub, or at least get a good start on it, I was sweating from stress. Where could it be? How could it disappear? It had to be somewhere, or it was stolen. There was no other explanation.
In the final hour, just before hubby came home, I finally remembered, sort of. I was walking by the grain bin, the empty grain bin. The grain bin we used to store oats in, many years before, and I decided to take a peek inside. Imagine my relief, when there it was, just as it had been patiently waiting, all those years. I didn’t have to tell hubby I’d lost the tub, and the installation went smoothly. Yup, people lose all kinds of things, glasses, keys, wallets and purses. I lose those things, too. In fact, I’m famous for losing keys, but I bet I’m the only one who lost a bathtub.

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About Trudy Andrew

Trudy Andrew lives on a small farm just east of Winnipeg, Manitoba, where she enjoys her Morgan horses. A dreamer since she was a child, its no surprise to those who know her well that her imagination would find an outlet in writing, as it has in the past through artwork.
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 Oakbank, MB