Getting out of my bath this morning I felt a little dizzy, I think it’s the spots combined with the squares that throw me off kilter.
My Council Home Help girl has been nagging me about the colour scheme but I supect she’s an ageing hippy and wants to bring in a phalanx of potplants to steam up my mirrors and glossy surfaces. (It’s the undercurrent of ancient patchouli oil that gives her away)
You can never trust an old hippie. Their morals have always been a little too loose for my liking. Nothing wrong with playing guitars in the desert and dressing like an impoverished 19th century peasant, but I believe they suffer drug flashbacks.
I can say in all honesty that I’ve never had a flashback from Bex Powders. Which reminds me, I’d better make sure the bathroom cabinet is stocked.