FOR THE RECORD:

... Back in 1976, in Bristol, it was my destiny to have to go into a bedroom every morning and wake up 4 little mentally handicapped kids in a dormitory and get them ready for breakfast and school. One hapless little girl of about seven had always been playing with her own faeces and made balls of it; plastering it everywhere and leaving it caked on her own hands.
Being winter WHEN I was there, the stench was overwhelming around the poor kid in the warm dormitory. I would take her to the bathroom and in an enormous Victorian sink wash the whole lot off her.
Very soon I learned the trick to breath only through my mouth to avoid the stench while doing this, contrary to the natural instinct of breathing through the nose.

... Now, looking at these pages, I am also able to control my eyes in exactly the same fashion; against instinct.
I just look at the posters I know to be positive and have something constructive to say; avoiding every syllable that I don't need, nor want to read. IMPOSSIBLE? ... No, not at all! Those months in Bristol with those sweet, poor kids, taught me many beautiful things.
One of them was how to filter out nastiness you did not want when it was right up close!

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