The Covid drowns the world. We are all self-isolating in one form or another. Climate change is upon us, racing us towards an iceless precipice of no trees, no fish, no bees. We're facing a world that can never return to the Before.
But my new obsession is my nose.
I had observed, like I do, that elderly people's noses shift and change and develop a personality outside of their faces. I look at their noses and think, did they always have this airconditioned honker with its pores open to the world which is at least double the size of a normal nose. I'd look at pictures of their weddings and/or youth and think: what the hell happened to their bonny wee noses?
I remember looking at my father's nose as he lay in his casket and being appalled at the size of it on such a small man. I whispered this to my daughter and she looked at me horrified. "My gawd Mum," she whispered back at me, "I think I've got his nose!" And we cracked up and had to move away for a while. Such are funerals. Full of trivia and weird hysterical thoughts in the midst of grief.
So, here I am looking at my nose and its larger appearance. I keep touching it. Long gone is the lovely retrousse of my youth. A nose I liked. A nose commented on favourably. But now? It's rough around the edges. I keep touching it. It feels like an enormous rough wart. Before it was silky. Well behaved. Fit for purpose. A good smeller. Now it has enlarged itself. Glowering down at my mouth. And there's nothing I can do about it
Please feel free to share your trivial and petty thoughts right here.
