I am, as you may know, a fan of coloured lights. It stems back to Christmas in childhood.
It was not just the tree lights, but a present from my parents of a torch or device that emitted different colours.
With my little brother watching in awe, I switched it on in the darkness during the middle of the night when we’d sneaked awake to open our presents.
The effect was magical.
Lights I have known
Many years later, a considerate partner, knowing of this happy memory, thoughtfully gave me something similar as a Christmas present again. I was delighted.
At present, I have artificial tea lights that change colour on my mantelpiece and on a radiator shelf in the hall.
It also contains three plastic figurines of Chinese sages that are supposed to bring health, wealth and happiness. They’ll be getting their jotters soon if they don’t brighten up their ideas.
More recently, I invested in an aroma dispenser that also changes colour and just looks fantastic in the dark.
Cosy as can be
Generally speaking, when I’m watching the telly, I’ll have all the lights off except my little ones that change colour, a couple of artificial flickering candles, and an actual real tea light in a Himalayan crystal purchased at a Christmas market 20-odd years ago.
The whole effect is as cosy as could be, though sometimes it’s at odds with the product on the screen which, if it’s football, often leads me to spoil the mood with copious swearing.
As for the new aroma dispenser, needless to say barely a whiff comes off it. It looks fantastic, though, giving off puffs of steam every 30 seconds.
Besides which, I am by now immune to olfactory disappointment.
You may recall I experimented with men’s fragrances, toilet water or whatever it’s called, and so forth, but just couldn’t get anything to stick.
Can cause tittering
I also learned that, when you can smell the scents, that means you’ve put too much on, which will occasion tittering on the part of the lieges.
It was the same with the “shower bombs” in which I invested several quid. Not a whiff.
I’m always trying out new shower creams but, these days, it’s impossible to find anything remotely “manly”.
Our local supermarket’s stock of Imperial Leather, which you’d have thought sounded right masculine, consists of varieties called Cotton Clouds, Unicorn Marshmallow, and Love Hearts.
A man in my position cannot afford to be found stinking of these.
Perhaps the aforementioned shower bombs would work better in the bath (they are, after all, actually “bath bombs” that are supposed to also work in the shower).
Coloured lights trending?
I could make an event of it, having the bathroom darkened apart from my beloved coloured lights and artificial candles.
Indeed, that’s what I did last time I had a bath, shortly after the outbreak of World War Two.
Alas, the busy executive such as your correspondent has little time for such indulgences.
It cannot be just me who likes coloured lights. Increasingly, I have noticed people keeping them up, in house or garden, long after Christmas has passed.
They do look magical, and were also favoured, I think, by the elves in The Lord of the Rings, whom I have always regarded as my guides and mentors.
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