Lavender Hell

There are few things that can prepare you for the true horrors of a live-in Mother-in-Law. The inane, pointless conversations, the "joy" of hearing verbatim the order of the balls that came out at bingo, the unmistakably heady combined smell of piss and lavender. I know from first hand experience what this is like. This is my story!

Friday, August 26, 2005

Lavender Hell - Why?

Lavender Hell

Old people eh?

If they’re not phoning up the BBC duty officer to complain that there was a bit of flesh / swearing / violence on telly, they're out in public in their slippers, smelling of wee and wearing lavender scented perfume.

Some people are fortunate enough to be able to observe them from a distance, safe in the knowledge that they can go back to their homes, bolt the door, and keep the grey-haired coffin-dodgers at bay.

Not so for others like myself. Read all about it at http://www.lavenderhell.co.uk - (get your hand in your pocket and make a donation if you feel really generous).

Life has a great sense of humour in that it allows you to think that you are finally getting somewhere and that the future looks rosy, then it hangs a piss and lavender smelling albatross about your neck (with apologies to the Rime of the Ancient Mariner for that metaphor - http://www.eriding.net/amoore/poetry/mariner.htm).

What I am hoping to achieve here is some form of therapeutic release by sharing the latest news of "M-I-L" (Mother-in-Law) with anyone who cares to read it.

And so it begins...

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