(no subject)
I think I must be a borderline risk of becoming a solvent abuser - I so love the smell of petrol and tippex and firelighters and paraffin. And today I am mainly enjoying the smell of proper wax furniture polish. And I also have a bit of a thing for the smell of hot tar and rubber hot water bottles. I think my sense of smell is the only sense that is becoming more acute as I age, perhaps to compensate for the fact that my hearing has been compromised by decades of listening to loud music. The optician told me at my last check up that everyone's sight deteriorates after the age of 40. So I look forward to an old age as a deaf, blind glue sniffer then.
The Valley Girl is at her position of choice at my shoulder, hovering like a vulture, ready to seize the computer the minute I stop typing. She is also being rude about my Folk Roots sampler cd which is this morning's polishing music. She will be sorry when I am a deaf, blind old glue sniffer, and probably incontinent to boot and she has to look after me. She says she doesn't think she'll bother. But she does think she should be awarded the Nobel Prize for Practical Perfectness. Today we are at home to Mary Poppins.
The Valley Girl is at her position of choice at my shoulder, hovering like a vulture, ready to seize the computer the minute I stop typing. She is also being rude about my Folk Roots sampler cd which is this morning's polishing music. She will be sorry when I am a deaf, blind old glue sniffer, and probably incontinent to boot and she has to look after me. She says she doesn't think she'll bother. But she does think she should be awarded the Nobel Prize for Practical Perfectness. Today we are at home to Mary Poppins.