Earlier this year, I published a collection with some friends called ‘What We Did During Lockdown’ . I got some feedback from a US reader that he thought it was ‘hilarious’ that I had called ‘loo roll’ ‘loo roll’ in my story. Well, what was I supposed to call it? Toilet paper? I never got to the bottom (lol) of it, and was left wondering, what do they call loo roll in America?
During 2020, I have become ever more observant of my own home – as I’m sure we all have. Just recently, I am convinced that my ghost has returned. I wrote about a ghost in my house three or four years ago, because there was a fragrance hanging around just like at my great auntie’s house, my puppy’s toys were all in a neat order and there was bathroom cleaner all over the bath (that I hadn’t done).
This time, I am convinced the ghost is stealing my loo roll (or whatever you call it in your country). Here is the evidence:
You can clearly see from this photograph that my cupboard is half empty, yet earlier that day, it was completely full.
No, I don’t have a loo roll obsession or live with someone who uses excessive amounts. There is just three of us here, my husband, my grown up daughter and me.
The other thing I noticed, a book has gone missing. I never lend books to people.
After something someone said to me when I was still working, I became interested in learning about Buffalo Bill’s Wild West tour (particularly the European leg). This is what the book that has gone missing from my house was about.
Here is the evidence:
You can clearly see a gap in between an encyclopedia of flowers that my dad gave me, and a redundant CD player shaped like a juke box. The ghost has been very sneaky here because I never look on this bottom shelf (and this is where the book has gone missing from).
I hope not, but I think my washing machine has broken again.
This is not the work of a ghost, this is my husband leaving pound coins in his jeans pockets.
Anyone else live in a sitcom?
Happy Tuesday, Samantha xx
PS I wrote these: