The very last time my Dad was over here in the Summer of 2004 he hid this bottle of TCP in the garden shed. He would use it for when he was bitten by the midges. I caught him one evening in the shed dabbing all his bites and I asked him what he was up to. His reply in a whisper “Don’t tell your mother, she hates the smell of TCP”. I don’t mind it myself, it reminds me of my childhood.
The bottle remains exactly where he hid it.
Ken
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