Mite biting

I smell like a granny’s sock drawer. Head to toe in induluted lavender oil.   That will teach me for living in a tree hugging hippy part of France. I was at the market this morning, at the cafe with my mates.   Manu spotted me scratching my mite bites and asked whether they were ‘aotat’, mite. Yes, I replied, and nothing works to stop them itching I replied. Suddenly everyone piled in with the chant of ‘lavender oil’. That’s more than six people with the same response.

So I rummaged in my cupboard when I came home and out came the oil.   The spooky thing is, it works. But it feels to me that it is strictly a daytime solution. The fumes would keep me up at night.

And Artur finds the aroma a bit pungent. He didn’t want to sit on my lap this morning, I was way too aromatic.