I am a 40+ woman whose body type definitely leans toward the cuddly side of the spectrum. My days of being an uber fit gym junkie are most definitely behind me and although I can still touch my toes without bending my knees it isn’t something I do often for fear of pulling a muscle or inviting my back to remind me that it is there and it isn’t happy about it. I don’t normally have a problem with any of this; I am as content as possible with my age, my body type and my activity level.
However, I am currently alone in the house and something has died in my bedroom ceiling. As it has been a steady 33C for the past few weeks, you can imagine how I have determined this fact. My bedroom is currently less welcoming than it could be, in fact it has been quite unliveable and I have been sleeping in the lounge. I am most definitely not climbing into the roof space and hopping from rafter to rafter to find and collect to offending rodent(?). If it smells this bad in my bedroom I can’t imagine what the roof space must smell like. I had not thought deeply about it before but I am guessing this is the reason for the saying ‘I smell a rat!’. Trust me, if one dies in your roof space, you certainly do!
The upside of this is that my bedroom has never been cleaner. In the beginning, prior to it becoming clear what the smell actually was, I spent in inordinate amount of time cleaning my bedroom to find the slightly funky smell that it had developed.
The long and short of it is that the smell is now beginning to subside. Having grown up in the country and seeing my fair share of road kill (in Australia we have a lot) I imagine my roof cavity visitor is now almost gone, either nibbled up by those most suited to the job or he has been neatly mummified by the hot breeze over the past few days. I will be alone for another week, by which time I imagine the smell will be all but gone and my room will be liveable again.
Most of the time I am happy being a fairly sedentary, cuddly, middle aged woman but just occasionally I miss being a fit, fearless 20 year old.
My favourite quote about death:
Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it.
W. Somerset Maugham
(it also has great potential to smell bad)
You will forgive me for not posting a recipe today. I thought that after reading the above, nothing was likely to appear particularly appetising.