This morning, the 19th of May (already?) I turned myself into a female Golum, by doing what I love, second best--- playing in mud, aka dragging out the crusty tile cutter, battered and rust stained, the diamond wheel turned to zircon wheel, smoking and fuming after myriad uses. The reason for my muddy estate, frizzy mud-drizzled hair, smeared glasses and a wet mucky swath striping down the middle, forehead to toes, thanks to the wheel's back wash, was due to my addiction to tiling the entire house… tile one bit you cant stop, like popping bubbles.

This, out of India slate which is, after all eons of compressed- mud!  After a thorough drenching, and  hips creaking, the appeal dwindled til another day.

Then, all I longed for was to be scoured and showered, shiny-haired, mud free, cleansed nails, subtly perfumed and wearing, in my imagination, something crisp and starched, say a pinafore and sitting primly before my lap top and pounding out more of Sary's new adventure: Sary and The Maharajah's Emeralds… . 

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