What's That Smell?

Woolworths didn't have my usual washing powder this week, so  I had to get substitute.
Same brand different fragrance.
This one is supposed to be "lemon fresh".
I opened the box with no great expectations only to have my nostrils assailed by a most peculiar odour. It didn't really smell like lemons, not even some sort of chemically lemon-esque scent. After a few seconds my olfactory memory kicked in. My new soap powder fragrance was highly reminiscent of the surface spray I use around the skirting boards to keep the cockroaches at bay.
(Sadly I am very familiar with that particular scent at the moment-we seem to be under attack from giant mutant cockroaches: EWWW!)
On the plus side our clothes should be free of crawling insects for the foreseeable future.

Wide Awake

Here it is the wee small hours and here I am awake-again. I've always been a bit of an insomniac but these days, or should that be nights, the problem seems to be worse than ever. I used to wile away the hours doing quiet housework but it seems my nocturnal floor mopping and shower scrubbing disturb the rest of the household-who could all, incidentally, sleep through a bomb exploding if it happened at seven on a weekday morning.
At one time I would have indulged in a bit of fiction writing to entertain myself but the muse has left me and I don't know if she'll be back. NaNoWriMo notwithstanding.
I could always read. I have a to-be-read pile that can be seen from the moon. Sadly nothing seems to be able to hold my interest for very long. My reading has been reduced to flipping through knitting patterns in doctors' waiting rooms.
Speaking of knitting I finally finished last year's project (a simple moss stitch cardigan) and I'm rocketing through this year's (a Debbie Bliss Riding Jacket, I love its shape). There's nothing like big needles and thick wool to speed up a project.
And so it goes on.