Tuesday, January 23, 2001

Last week, in an untypical fit of houseproudness, I bought some potted hyacinths and daffodils. As I was leaving for work yesterday morning, I noticed that the hyacinths were about to flower. I returned home from work last night and as I unlocked my front door, I was hit by a wave of heady, sickly, overpowering perfume. My house smelled like a branch of Lush. It was so strong I had to open all the windows, despite the icy temperatures. However, I soon got used to the smell and closed the windows and went to bed. This morning I woke up with the most incredible hayfever. I've gone through half a box of tissues already. That's the last time I try to pretty up my home.

While searching for links about hyacinths, I came across:
  • A Freaky Trigger review of the 6ths' album Hyacinths And Thistles
  • Hyacinth AIDS Foundation
  • the life of St Hyacinth of Cracow who, during an attack on a monastery, saved a crucifix and and a statue of Mary, though the statue apparently weighed far more than he could normally have lifted. He was obviously a bit of a weakling: see this picture of the saint shown holding these two items.
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