Standing in front of the kitchen sink -- again. It's a 24-7 job keeping up with dishes and perfumery tools. Cups, spoons, forks, watch out for the sharp knife, ooh, that's a broken glass dropper(!), what's this crap(?), epoxy? "Who put glue in my dilution bottle?" Oh, not epoxy, labdanum resin and something with chunks, and, oh, it smells nice, what else is in there(?), so what to wash first? Dishes or perfume stuff?
Somebody, y'know that guy? Yeah, Somebody used my ultrasonic to clean a corn cob pipe. I kid you not. Wonder what they're planning to use that pipe for? Well, nothing now, because if Somebody wants it back, they're going to have to ask what happened to their pipe and then I'll have them. That flippin' Somebody . . . Scrubbed out the ultrasonic and put the lid back on it -- with tape. How dare they use this complicated, expensive piece of perfumery equipment for their nefarious activities.
My underwear have been disappearing. I know it has nothing to do with perfumery (thank heavens!), but I felt compelled to share. They've been disappearing out of the wash and I'd been wracking my brain trying to figure out what was going on when it was discovered that the kids have been putting the clean laundry baskets in the perfume room, which was the den, and that has a sliding glass door that rarely gets closed, and the dogs, that's plural, dogs, have been sneaking in and taking my drawers out of the baskets into the backyard and tearing them up under the bushes.
So not only do I have to worry about hateful people trying to ruin my reputation, there are dogs eating my underpants. Is this a curse? Because if it is, how lame.
Going to the garden to get lemon leaves for distillation. Maybe some olive leaves, too. Can olive leaves be distilled?
Guess I'll find out.
And I'll let you know.