Strollin' Johnny, I am getting closer and closer to being in agreement with you.

I just had to leave the first pub I'd gone to in 10 years, because I wanted so much to spend time with freda underhill, here from Australia, and other mudcatters, some I was also meeting for the first time.

As I walked in the door I knew I was in trouble, and as time went on, I first kept going outside to take great gulps of air, and then finally sat off by myself in front of the propped-open door semi-leaning out. I felt sicker and sicker and more and more frustrated.

After an hour and a half of pure misery, I finally made my goodbyes and left. It was really sad for me, and I certainly didn't feel like opening my mouth to sing, or even chat.

No more. Never again. I buried one love from his four-pack a day habit, and now I've had to walk away from something I had really been looking forward to. I'm home, all the clothes I wore today are in the washing machine.

Smokers affect everyone around them. That's what makes it different than any other habit I can think of. I have just lost my last bit of tolerance for it. (And for those of you who are kind enough to take your habit outside, thank you, but just know you still smell of it and taste of it.)

..xx..e