Adam alerts me Sunday mornings to worthy reads in the Globe and the online edition of the New York Times. I look forward to his links. This Sunday he asked me if I’d read about Virgin Atlantic’s clubroom at Logan. I hadn’t but promised to have a look inside the Globe Magazine after dinner. As soon as I glanced at the photos I knew to scan the text for reference to his company, Collaborative Lighting. The magazine photos are much clearer and brighter than these scanned pics.
“Pesky Godson of Chicago writes: “I cannot find the words splittist or splittism in my dictionary.”
My nose has driven family and friends crazy over the years. It’s a curse. I can smell a bear a half mile away, garlic on the breath of someone clear across the room, the clashing multiple perfume scents in a theatre. I’ve been known to wake John up in the middle of the night with “what’s that smell†simply because a cigarette smoker has walked on the sidewalk out front.  Never mind how I’ve been tortured by teens after skiing-hiking-baseball-soccer-snowboarding refusing to drive them anywhere until they showered…..
But yesterday my nose failed me. Happily curled up with a book, visiting with my parents, I wondered why I had such a headache? Mike and Di walk in and Mike immediately says “I smell gasâ€. “No way†I say, and ignore him.   Mike promptly went to the gas stove and turned it on.
The house did not explode. But indeed we had a leaky furnace. Now we owe him our lives.
BirdBrain