Tolstoy was probably wrong.
"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."
I wouldn't know about the second part of that principle.
But I certainly know about the first part. It simply is not true.
Those of you who have been reading my blog before I moved south (a month ago), know that I had one great pleasure in my life: my hot tub.
I read in it. I ate in it. I (now and then) slept in it.
For 16 years, I spent almost every evening and quite a few afternoons in its womb serenity.
Leaving it behind was more difficult than saying adieu to my library. It was the faithful spouse I otherwise never found.
But I may have found a new romance. We are just getting to know one another, so, I do not want to jinx he relationship. But I may have a substitute love.
The owner of the house where I am staying purchased an above-ground pool. When I heard the news, I was not overly-impressed.
Our family had an above-ground pool when I was growing up. As the designated pool boy, I now have mixed Jungian feelings about pools. I spent many a sybaritic moment in that pool. But it was a lot of work to keep it in shape as a dream-maker.
I gave the new pool a spin on Saturday afternoon. And, as Goldilocks would say: "This one is just right."
There will be no meals eaten in this pool. But it is a great place to cool off -- and to read.
So, Mr. Tolstoy. I was a happy family with my hot tub. But I am now a new happy family with the pool.
And we are each happy in our own way.
