Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Knowing your onions

Vaguely out of sorts and feeling lethargic. After some writing, I put another coat of paint on the wall. Weirdly this paint when it is drying smells of sick, and inhaling its sicky fumes may have added to my wooziness. Mum told me that my Grandmother used to cut an onion which somehow absorbed the fumes. When I remembered this I put a bit of an onion in the room to see if it would have any effect.

Went to the gym, I went through my routine but was underpowered and my ankle felt sore afterwards.

Listening, as an audiobook, to Wolf Hall, which justifies all the plaudits it has attracted. Richard has listened to it too lately. A believable historical reconstruction: the scenery doesn't wobble.

Lorraine thinking through her ninja two-day Head Teacher interview. We went to bed in the room which still smelled sicky. Lorraine soon began coughing and saying something was catching her throat. Beth is allergic to raw onions, and they make the end of Lorraine's nose itch sometimes.  I quietly removed the onion from its resting place on top of the radiator, and we repaired to Beth's room to sleep.

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