Ten days ago I stood in the kitchen and casually mentioned I was feeling a little under the weather and would skip yoga. Little did we know ... The flu has smote our family and we've all tumbled into bed, too sick to move and too sick to care, so sick Nellie narrowly avoided hospitalisation. So sick, my father flew down from Brisbane to take care of us all. Now we're back on our feet - just - but I've got a scratchy, kick the dog kind of a feeling, and we're none of us fun to be around. I blame the surly waitress at the Mexican restaurant where I went out with adults and without a child for the first time in about two years. I was so excited, believing I could forsee a time when I had a social life again; we've all paid dearly for that fantasy.
A couple of weeks ago I was talking to Lucy about bluster. It's a good word to say and it fits its object well. Lucy replied "I don't like bluster, I only like pink bluster", which is pretty much in keeping with her current stylings as 'contrary fairy'. I left it lie. But on my walk this afternoon, I came across pink bluster and Lu is right: it's much better than the everyday kind:
The white bluster is pretty nice, too: