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Notes09/01/2019
Netti77
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Netti77
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Promises and reality
Aha... Nundannic i hold the beautifully printed cardboard in my hand.
Of course I researched the internet before ordering. Quince, apple, cardamom, saffron.
Italian coast, Amalfi. Unfortunately I had to imagine it all, because I couldn't test the expensive scent anywhere in our house, nor was I ever in this picturesque place. So I relied on description and in great hope ordered blindly online. Quince, my hope was quince.
I carefully open the box, boah... valuable, alone haptically a pleasure. Flaconic Quality, design everything I like.
So... now I imagine Italy, sea, quince tree and dare first spray on my wrist.
Pfftttt, pffft.... pfffttt....
Oh, uh... I'm 6 years old, my forehead is burning. There's a thermometer in your mouth.
My grandma... who hasn't lived for 10 years... is turning in the kitchen and just baked:
"So my child, I told you not to take off your cap on the way home. Now you've got a cold. We'll figure it out. Grandma's gonna do it now."
I've got a runny nose. I have to sniff. But I fill myself with care and security. Grandma lifts my undershirt and rubs my chest and back with some spicy (carnation?) ointment.
Nose opens immediately and lungs fill with delicious sweet balsamic aroma. Then she turns around and in my little hands lands a pot of warm very sweet fruit (quince?) herbs teas.
"Drink, drink. It'll relieve biting sore throats and take fever. We'll figure it out. Grandma's gonna do it."
I take a sip and it's ridiculously tasty and good for you. And I breathe and I breathe and I breathe... And fill me with care and security. And I do pffftt again... And my tears come...
Of course I researched the internet before ordering. Quince, apple, cardamom, saffron.
Italian coast, Amalfi. Unfortunately I had to imagine it all, because I couldn't test the expensive scent anywhere in our house, nor was I ever in this picturesque place. So I relied on description and in great hope ordered blindly online. Quince, my hope was quince.
I carefully open the box, boah... valuable, alone haptically a pleasure. Flaconic Quality, design everything I like.
So... now I imagine Italy, sea, quince tree and dare first spray on my wrist.
Pfftttt, pffft.... pfffttt....
Oh, uh... I'm 6 years old, my forehead is burning. There's a thermometer in your mouth.
My grandma... who hasn't lived for 10 years... is turning in the kitchen and just baked:
"So my child, I told you not to take off your cap on the way home. Now you've got a cold. We'll figure it out. Grandma's gonna do it now."
I've got a runny nose. I have to sniff. But I fill myself with care and security. Grandma lifts my undershirt and rubs my chest and back with some spicy (carnation?) ointment.
Nose opens immediately and lungs fill with delicious sweet balsamic aroma. Then she turns around and in my little hands lands a pot of warm very sweet fruit (quince?) herbs teas.
"Drink, drink. It'll relieve biting sore throats and take fever. We'll figure it out. Grandma's gonna do it."
I take a sip and it's ridiculously tasty and good for you. And I breathe and I breathe and I breathe... And fill me with care and security. And I do pffftt again... And my tears come...
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