Thanks to some Bad Sushi, re-minisce is experiencing the mixed blessing of a restful day at home alternating between bed, toilet, piano, toilet and bed.
No prizes for guessing the nature of the ailment.
Thus far the Mother has forc... coerc.... encouraged re-minisce to sprawl on the sofa and listen to her playing (why is it everytime i want to play alone she appears...) all sorts of beautiful classical refrains.
I had the remarkable experience recently of conducting a matching scheme for my mummy-mismatched socks.
I now have a frightfully large collection of unpairable socks remaining. Perhaps the washing machine is a portal to another dimension...?
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