My nose has been offended.
At lunchtime today I marched (okay, was driven by Lady C) off to Homebase to get some plants for the soon to be balcony planting, intended as a townie nod to the rambling wildflower gardens currently in vogue. I picked up two each of gypsophilia and aster daisies, thinking that they'd add a splash of pretty English countryside to the balcony of our hulking 1930s building.
I got them back to the office and sat them by my desk. All was well in the garden of Astral Towers. But before too long I got a whiff of feet. Not mine. Not Mr Samuels. And not Lady C's, although she was the first suspect as her shoes were ones with lots of little holes in them. A mild inkling rumbled in my brain, and I bent down and took a sniff of the plants.
The asters smelt of ripe toes. The gypsophilia smelt like rank Stilton. Together, they were Death.
There is an estate agent coming tomorrow to value the flat before it goes on the market...and his first impression is going to be a ratty English countryside balcony that smells of long dead feet.
I must get some new plants for the balcony. And next time I must smell them before I buy them.
Where mission was conceived: 2nd floor, Astral Towers
Type of location: Workplace
Idea-fuelling beverage: Pure life-giving, odourless water
Estimated increase in quality of life I expect from the completed mission: Significant
Likelihood of success: It will happen or I will have to cut my nose off
Mission deadline: Sunday 8 July.
No comments:
Post a Comment