This could be heaven, or...

Despite my persistence, I seem unable to wean the 'boys' off 'Hotel California'. The good Jayne Anne Phillips once used 'surrender' to describe motherhood-in-a-word. I'm working on surrendering in the same way to the faux reggae rhythms of that song.

Am waiting for the word from above to begin work on the Crystal Gallery. I sent my plan for writing to Shriji, and he emailed back to me "Let's meet". Easier said than done when everyone in the kingdom seems to be clamouring for his time.

So I spent yesterday waiting for the call that never came. Not that I suffered too much. It rained. I read, napped, and taking advantage of the rain-cooled weather, went for a long walk into India. Along the way I came across a wedding. An oompah band with men in blue and white suits played as the groom got on his horse. There were firecrackers and hennaed hands and general good cheer. And right across the stairs from where the bridal party emerged was this stinking rubbish dump. No early morning clattering of garbos for this town!