From Bath to Cork with Baby Grace

I’ve had athlete’s foot since well before Christmas.  It took me a long time to get some Mycil, so I struggled on with mangy toes until both feet were so troubled.

I have to credit the Wiffe with being the one to go buy the powder.  But Mycil isn’t a miracle cure, and I’m still tapping the white powder in between toes that are still skinless and smelly.

This morning I showered, and also washed both feet in the sink. 

I was keen to do a thorough job and speed the recovery.  After the shower, the towel was damp, as you’d expect it to be.  I needed something to dry between my toes. I found just what I needed in the form of a paper tissue on top of the bedroom chest-of-drawers.

That’s why I picked up the tissue without my glasses on, and quickly pushed the thick wad (which felt dry) into the affected parts.  As soon as the tissue hit the vee, I realised I’d made a terrible mistake.  Gunge, gooey gunge… in other words, snot… oused out clinging to my fingers and toes. You see the Wiffe has been suffering from blocked sinuses. 

The rest of this story doesn’t need writing.  You can imagine the rest.

She’s the last person I thought would leave such an object lying round the house.  Please don’t tell her I’ve written this.  It might not be a true story.

"… Personally, I believe that it is the utmost in vanity for a blogger to do more than one post in a given day, for they must think they’re pretty goddam special to expect readers to focus on more topic per writer at a time, especially when you consider the amount of quality blogs that are out there…"

- Also sprach Pagano Zarathustra

As the Year of the Eye passes away, I find myself reflecting on how important it’s been all through my life.

My mother had three eyes.  She had three because she told us so.  The third eye was concealed inside her bun.  That was the one she had in the back of her head.  Thinking about it now, I realise that she was unusual in having one eye there because many mothers had eyes (plural) in the back of their head. 

This fitted in nicely with the experience of being the creation of an all-seeing god. An almighty god was a marvellous thing, all the more attractive because it was impossible to understand.  There was a huge amount of mystery surrounding the thought and feeling of an almighty presence.  The universe was the sum of the understood, the misunderstood and the un-understandable: there was always more to understand, and even more that could never be controlled through the medium of understanding.  The universe of my childhood was a marvellous place.  Mother’s eye was one element of that whole. 

I guess she was marvellous too.

Ring in the Year of the Ear.