21st C
Gainsborough's ghost was here again this week. No sooner had the MollyMaid team arrived to clean, entered the room Gainsborough used as his studio on the first floor overlooking the garden at the back of the house, when one of them called out: "He's here!" The strange and unpleasant smell was back. The last time it appeared was when the Molly Maid team was here a couple of weeks ago. And as soon as they left the house this week, and I came upstairs, the odour had vanished completely. Three of us had smelled the scent - it certainly isn't a matter of the imagination.
I have reason to be grateful that I live in the 21st C this week and not alongside Margaret Gainsborough in the 18th C. Eating an inoffensive egg salad at supper, one of my teeth shattered. Raced off to the dentist next day. He applied his magic and assures me he can save the tooth and there and then fixed up a temporary repair. I thanked the stars for the progress of science in my time.