Dust

You know that picture you have of students at the feet of the Master?  He (it’s inevitably he) is standing wrapped in some sort of flowing robe, and they look up in eager anticipation of receiving his wisdom.

So there I was dispensing my philosophy (from my comfortable hammock) to F seated on the balcony, when she suddenly caught sight of the reflection of the soles of her feet in the balcony doors. (Just shows the length of her attention span.)

Good teachers will turn distractions into valuable lessons.  I bade her photograph them (good thing her Pilates means she folds in half quite readily) as an illustration of the dust and dirt that needs cleaning off our balcony and interior floors. 

It shows up readily on her pasty pink trotters.  You can’t see it on my delicate little black toes.  She washes her feet in the hand basin – but I have to clean that stuff off with my TONGUE!



Comments

  1. Hari OM
    Oh yes, I'm familiar with such stuff - to some extent in OZ, but the winner for dust has to be India! Mind you - that's looking promising for a runner up. Jus' sayin'... hugs and whiskeries, YAM-aunty xxx

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    1. India sounds challenging. I might not be able to produce enough spit to keep clean...furrings & head-butts to you too.

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  2. Ha, ha good thing you have black paws. My pink pads look like that most of the summer. Dusty and dirty. Who cares. Bare feet are the best, whatever the colour .
    Does your tongue turn that colour?

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    1. Don't know - I've never checked. Whenever F holds me up to a mirror I just look stern and keep my mouth shut because it used to mean I was about to be put out of the house. She'd tell me to "check my hair-do". I've been caught staring at reflections in glass doors, but it has never occurred to me to stick my tongue out at them.

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