Monday morning and I'm still sick. Too sick to work, but well enough to blog. Hem... Bud's out so I've got home rule for a couple of hours.
Unshaven
Bud's got the beginnings of a beard. I think it makes him look distinguished. He's worried he might be accosted on the street as a Muslim fundamentalist. He hasn't grown it deliberately. Just didn't shave for three or four days and I told him he should leave it on. He finds it surprising that the beard is silver-coloured. That does bother him a bit.
Saris
It was his daughter's birthday yesterday. He rang her to wish her a Happy Birthday (and I remembered to congratulate him, as they do in Holland 'Congratulations on your daughter's birthday'). He's promised her a bass guitar but she's told him she'd like something else instead - a sari. Why? She'd recently seen on a photo how Indian she looks. So she's decided to wear a sari to her school graduation. Bud is touched. He's about 25% Indian origin, felt no link with the place until recently, and has felt that his kids - living with their mother - didn't really identify with his side of the family at all. So the request for a sari was quite a surprise and a sort of compliment. Actually, his daughter could just as easily be taken for South American - Peruvian - something like that.
Indian dreams
Last night, after the phone call about the sari, I dreamt that my car was stolen in England and that my Chief Suspect was the husband of an Indian woman in a purple sari who'd been explaining to Bud how she was linked to him (Bud) via the family tree! I had a vague feeling of a large, Asian family trying to stifle me before I ended the dream and woke up. I told Bud and he immediately leapt out of bed and peeked between the slats of the Venetian blinds to see if our car, parked across the road, was still there. It was. Phew. Don't know what the dream says about me and India.
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