You know it makes scents

Damn, it's Saturday and I missed my chance for a grump. That's what happens when you have a good Friday. Good because I had a lovely coffee and a chat in the morning with the winsome lass whose face could launch a thousand swifts; good because in the afternoon I succeeded in defrosting the fridge freezer with minimal flooding; good because Thursday's rain has done wonders for the lawn and the garden pong (That should have been "pond" but the misprint has a certain resonance, and indeed a certain truth).

Oh yes, and I sorted out Sarah's knickknacks - lots of little girl things like smiley cats, humorous hedgehogs and flexible apes, everything in miniature. They'll go a treat in the next CAFOD car boot sale. But I find it hard to let go of two cute little scent bottles. In fact I am thinking not only of retaining them, but also of starting a collection of my own. Such pretty objects, so sweet, so adorable. Mind you, if I go rummaging around in junk shops and car boots for girly objets d'art, you can be sure that anything I say to the vendors will be uttered in a gravelly Lee Marvin voice. Just letting them know there's nothing noncy about the Old Scrote.