I live in an apartment on the ninth floor of a fifteen-floor building.
If you walked into my home right now, what would you smell?
Would you believe whisky?
So you’re thinking: “Poor old dear! Must be a lush- doesn’t look like one, does she?”
“Were you enjoying a wee drink, dear, before we arrived?” asked Roger.
“Ah no, I was making marmalade, can’t you smell it?”.
“No”, said Sean, “I smell whisky”.
So, I explained how each jar is topped with whisky “as a preservative, just a wee teaspoonful”, “Oh sure”, says Roger in obvious disbelief!