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  Lemon-Scented Sticky Bat Perfume Oil

  …last week Maddy woke me up early in the morning.

  “Daddy,” she said, “There’s a bat on the kitchen window.”

  “Grumphle,” I said and went back to sleep.

  Soon, she woke me up again. “I did a drawing of the bat on the kitchen window,” she said, and showed me her drawing. For a five year old she’s a very good artist. It was a schematic of the kitchen windows, showing a bat on one of the windows.

  “Very nice dear,” I said. Then I went back to sleep.

  When I went downstairs…

  We have, instead of dangling fly papers, transparent strips of gluey clear plastic, about six inches long and an inch high, stuck to the windows on the ground floor. When they accumulate enough flies, you peel them off the window and throw them away.

  There was a bat stuck to one. He was facing out into the room. “I think he’s dead,” said my assistant Lorraine.

  I peeled the plastic off the window. The bat hissed at me.

  “Nope,” I said. “He’s fine. Just stuck.”

  The question then became, how does one get a bat (skin and fur) off a fly-strip. Luckily, I bethought me of the Bram Stoker award. After the door had fallen off (see earler in this topic) I had bought some citrus solvent to take the old glue to reglue the door on.

  So I dripped citrus solvent onto the grumpy bat, edging him off the plastic with a twig, until a lemon-scented sticky bat crawled onto a newspaper. Which I put on the top of a high woodpile, and watched the bat crawl into the logs. With any luck he was as right as rain the following night…

  Sticky-sweet iced lemon sugar!

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  Row Bullies Row Perfume Oil

  The boardinghouse masters came aboard in a trice
  A shouting and a promising all that was nice
  Til one old crib took a liking to me
  Says he you’re a fool, lad, to follow the sea

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  Says he there’s a job as is waiting for you
  With lashings of liquor and beggar-all to do
  Says he what you say lad, will you? – or two?
  Says I you old bastard, I’m damned if I do

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  But the best of intentions they never goes far
  After thirty two days at the door of the bar
  I tossed off me liquor and what do you think
  That rotten old bastard had doctored me drink

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  Next I remember I woke in the morn
  On a the three skysail yarder bound south round Cape Horn
  With an old set of oilskins and two pair of socks
  And an IOU nailed to the lid of my box

  And it’s row, row bullies row

  Honeyed rum, a whiff of almond, and a hint of something suspiciously soporific.

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  Eclipse Perfume Oil

  All the glory, warmth and majesty of the sun — darkened. A delicious blend of bitter almond, vanilla, frankincense and heliotrope, with a drop of cinnamon.

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  Krampus Kreme Latte

  If you don’t have access to fresh Krampus Kreme, store-bought is fine! Here’s a warm draught for the naughty-listers: hazelnuts, almonds, and coffee beans sweetened with heavy cream froth and honey and spiced with ginger, black pepper, black cardamom, and cacao.

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