Jack’s got a new bath tub. When our plumbers relocated our laundry area in the basement they put in a new sink. It’s the perfect size, depth and height for washing Jack.
Our previous sink was shallow and at a height that was too low for me. Whilst washing Jack I was always vigilant as I thought he might try and jump out. The ease with which I am now able to wash Jack is serendipitous. I love the new sink.
Initially I wasn’t keen on the new sink. I preferred the old one. Although it was not in great shape, it had a vintage style that I liked; it was solid and had a useful draining board on one side. Unfortunately, it was too big to relocate to the new laundry area.
The old sink also had a sentimental appeal as it had been in the house a long time. As with many things in our house, I appreciate the connection it provided with earlier occupants and a bygone era. I like that our house has a history and want to retain a sense of it in our renovations.
Dan knew that I liked the old sink. We had bounced around the idea of utilizing it in the potting shed, but never concluded the conversation.
Earlier this week Dan called me at work to say that the contractors had put the old sink in the skip (aka dumpster) and asked if I was okay with that. I said I was. I appreciated him asking.
This morning when Jack and I set out for our morning walk we encountered a man at our skip. A little sheepishly he asked me if he could take the sink (for scrap metal I assume, because the bed of his truck had other large metal items in it). I told him he could. So, the sink was finally gone, and I felt good thinking that the guy would get some money for recycling it.
I have a habit of wanting to hold on to the old and familiar but recognise that sometimes you have to let go and move on. In doing so you make yourself open to new ways and unforeseen benefits.
live. enjoy. repeat.