Yep, that's right. Reviewette. I may very well have just made that word up. For the purpose of not making this post look like I got any further with the Fragrance Forays. No Viv W - the Boots in this town is not grand enough, so I tried Jimmy Choo instead. Light, giddy and not unlike the swanky, pungent talc that was in abundance in the 70s. I have not yet found the One. Idly wondering what a perfume by Spend Spend Spend Viv Nicholson would have been like; stale babycham, players no.6, crimpelene, with a heady note of peroxide and a dash of disappointment?
The bouncy sunny afternoon is very apt for playing the new Adele album. Full-bodied production qualities.
Tomorrow is an Official Day Off. And what a stupid day to arrange to have the boiler mot'd. It means I'll have to clean the bathroom and hoik all the stuff out of the airing cupboard at some point tonight. I don't mind doing that kind of thing, but only when I feel like it, not because a man who will try to flog me a carbon monoxide detector is coming round.
And the kitchen will be happening soon - the man who is doing the plumbing did not suck air thru his teeth, and is sending a chap round later this week to look at my not-to-scale scribblings; the only proof that everything will fit is the big pencilled arrows I have drawn on the walls. There will be room to swing large feline creatures, and more vitally, room to get to the sink without long-jumping over the open dishwasher door or risking a hot pan attaching itself to your sleeve.
