Menoparched [men-oh-par-tccchh-d]; the condition of being sucked dry


This is a STOP PRESS item. 

This week we have been getting some wild winds coming in from the mainland (Mumbai's an island remember).  With it has been coming a significant amount of dust.  Bit of a misnomer that.  Dust.  More your sort of talcum-like moon-soil kind of stuff.

India is widely known for two things.  They are famous.  Heat.  Dust.  Australia gets its fair share of the same.  I think on the heat stakes, it can certainly match if not beat.  On a day-to-day basis though, it has nothing to offer in the dust stakes.  Definitely it has some major dust storms (witness the 'red dawn a few years back, or the 'heboob' earlier this year).  But between such events and by comparison with India, Oz has nothing.

I have mentioned prior to this that if slack for even a day, the grit underfoot is not pleasant.  This week that ramped up to disgusting.  On Wednesday I actually swept and washed the floor three times.  Once it's swept and you go over it with the mop, you find that another layer has already fallen and you are close to wallowing in mud.  I could have chosen not to bother I suppose.  But, 'eeeuuwww'.  Then there's all the surfaces and poor old Voo-voo here.  I already lost Yamspet the netbook to the ravages of the atmosphere.  I am trying to be more attentive to Voo the Vaio's needs.  It's challenging though.  I'm concerned it will also get parched inside.

As for myself.  Well the insides are probably a bit dry too, so ensuring the drinking liquids are plentiful and often.  The skin though.  Dessiccation is the term I believe.  Never have I approached a pot of moisturiser as frequently or as desperately as I have in the past month and this week…. Well.  When you can actually feel your skin crackling, you knows you gotta dooooo something. 

Thankfully I have a great supply.  Emm again.  Shopper and gift giver extraordinaire.

STOP PRESS number two - although technically a couple days late.  I know you've all been waiting with bated breath for this news.  I had cause to shift stuff around significantly on Wednesday for reasons given above.  Under my window ledge there a number of empty boxes, strong and worth holding onto for packing at a later date.

Only one of them was not empty.

……..probably ought to keep this to myself, but, well, yes - there were the missing baked beans.  On the finding, I recalled at the time of trying to find space in the wardrobe and failing, that my 'logic' was the box could double as storage space.  If there had been other items it might have made more sense.  Or been more obvious. But is was only the beans.  Which of course ensured the placement was forgotten almost as it happened.  And who would think to do such a thing anyway?  Hence I never considered looking in that one place.    Deep, slow breaths YAM….  Probably happened due to menparchment of the brain.


4 comments:

  1. The beans had to be spilled! Yes I remember back in the day things that could not be found and the mutterings that took place. Even the telescope. Hmmmmmmmmmm nothing's changed really, except for the direct experience both electrical and otherwise.
    Have a great week end and hope the dust settles. Sorry no pun intended.

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  2. Hari Om
    Hah! You had to bring THAT up... today had my umpteenth dust and wash of the place - but signs it is letting up. 'Avagoodweegend yourself!

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  3. Welcome to my world (memory rather than dust) Yamani. :-) The times I've put things in safe places, never to find them again except by pure chance....

    The dust sounds dreadful. As an asthmatic I'd imagine it isn't good for anyone with respiratory problems, but the problem of skin drying had never occurred to me. Keep slapping on the moisturiser....

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  4. Hari Om
    Wilco! It's not so much the dust itself as the constant washing it off that dries the epidermis - it's the dust in the brain that worries more!

    Glad to note that things are brightening over your way. I look forward to full-frontal daffodil images soon! &>

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