Have you ever found the habits of others not only odd, but at times almost stomach wrenching? There were times when I truly dreaded dinner invitations from a certain friend whose three cats were allowed to walk the kitchen benches without restraint, sampling the food as they did so.
Another had to me what was an abysmal habit of recycling paper table napkins if she thought they had a deserving design or their colour appealed to her. Oh the agony of evaluating last week’s splodges of Extra Virgin Olive Oil and yesterday’s spots of Tabasco.
Perhaps worst of all - does anyone recall the era of yesterday’s mothers whose uninhibited spitting on embroidered handkerchiefs to wipe the grubby faces of their offspring alarmed all under-fives within arm’s reach? How readily the half-forgotten but distinctive aroma of drying saliva on cotton springs from the deepest recesses of memory to once more repel and disgust.