Victory cigarettes

We've started making our own cigarettes - not roll-ups, but ones with those little machines which fill an empty cigarette with tobacco. This experiment in cottage industry means that not only do we save a fair amount of money, we get to smoke better quality tobacco. If it's going to kill me, at least let me be killed by something decent, not the kind of tobacco they stick in most cigarettes, which I am told is full of chemicals to make it burn evenly and usually of such low quality that you wouldn't be able to smoke it without all the added flavourings. This is pure, high quality Turkish tobacco.

The only problem is that I still haven't got the knack of filling the skins tightly and evenly. Often the tobacco falls out if I don't pick up the cigarette carefully, or a gap in the middle leads to a gob of smouldering tobacco falling off and making a hole in the carpet (we decided to take commercial cigarettes with us when we visit Nalan's parents, after I had to lift up the sofa there to recover a miniature incendiary bomb). They remind me of those Victory Cigarettes in Orwell's 1984. Now I just need to find some Victory Gin to drink with them.

(no subject)

One in 10 elderly people sees nobody on an average day, according to a report describing the effects of a cash-rich, time-poor society on its older members.

I can see that some people would not like to be in this position, but it would suit me fine. To see nobody on an average day could mean seeing someone between once every other day and once every third day. That sounds pretty good, given that almost all the problems in my life are the result of seeing people. A life composed mainly of solitude, punctuated by occasional visits from carefully-selected mortals seems ideal. If I want companionship on a daily basis, I can always get a cat.