Today's the day for Squirrel Eviction. The roofer chappie, Keith, is going to block the chimney with chicken wire. We should have bought a trap, I suppose, if we're ever to try squirrel stew. (But there's always my husband's air rifle.)
We could do with Tim Murphy being here.
Adrian,
I'm glad you like my mangle poem, and that's very interesting about the dementia treatment. There really is no smell quite like that of a soapy boil wash (no one boils whites any more. Stuff would fall to pieces or shrink beyond recognition.) My mum always boiled cotton sheets, towels, tea towels, handkerchiefs etc, to keep them snowy white.
Ah, nostalgia is a nice feeling! (Sigh)
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