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Weird fact, listen—Victorians banned it, prudes! Said it’s “sinful”—ha, fools missed out! Me, I’d sneak it, yesss, under their noses. Love the dim lights, the whispers—secrets, precious secrets! Like Del Toro’s shadows, all twisty-turny. Sometimes I hum, “Lullaby, lullaby,” from the flick—calms me down. Ever tried it with lavender? Smells like dreams, mate, knocks ya out!

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Then I bump into this old lady, Mrs. Jenkins. She’s a legend around here. Always has a cheeky smile and a story to tell. She starts ramblin’ about her garden and how her roses are the talk of the town. I’m like, “Good on ya, Mrs. J!” She’s got that spark, y’know? Makes ya feel good just bein’ around her.

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