Doughny Whackers, Aging and ahem, Haemorroids
Doughy Whackers? In ancient times when I was young the tall chestnut trees stood sentinel in autumn and dropped upon the gutters their seeds— round, green and covered in thorns that might hurt. At least, they looked as they might and so to expend their dismay at returning to school (I always loved school and was a geek before that word existed. I say this with pride in case you missed that) boys did what boys have done and men continue to do from time’s inception: they designed weaponry from the bounty of nature.
Doughny Whackers do not sit in my daily think bank. I am not one of those aging, wrinkling humans who stares at the back of their hands, the increased veins there, the growing number of liver spots there and remembers a time oh a time when none of those signs of having successfully canoed the intrepid waters of life had happened. No, I do not. I am more likely to consider the sagging, wrinkling portion of my physique as warrior tattoes, outer displays of my victorious and conquering wisdom regarding the straits and narrows of life.
So when Doughny Whackers arrived in a dream one night, I climbed into my seat of Universal Knowledge and hit google.
Horse Chestnut seed is good for varicose veins (of which I have almost none) and haemorroids so I bought a small plastic container (you know the type). My digestion has improved with this addition and so this tiny article slides to an end. Appropriate, no?
The moral of the story: avoid doughny whackers, watch your dreams and consider the virtues of the humble horse chestnut seed. Have a great day!
