Helium or hot air?

Back again. No blogging since Thursday as I went into Martha mode, from which I have returned, exhausted. However, the photo here shows why I did it: two joyous friends celebrating the culmination of another Cursillo weekend. Not a weekend I was attending - I was one the wee legs thrashing away below the water, helping the weekend to surprise and delight, clearing up the considerable aftermath. And as a result, my pleasure was in seeing the results, and in the warmth of the reaction to our work.

And for the rest? Well, there's a great restaurant in Perth's South Street, where six of us had splendid fish and game before resuming our toil. There was the fun of camping in a friend's house (thanks for leaving the heating on, Hugh!) and the wonder of sharing real conversation without any inhibitions. The only casualty was the odd exploding balloon - rainbow-coloured rubber, not human. The actual business of the weekend was, in a way, paralleled among us who call ourselves The Fourth Day - living proof of the effect of Cursillo, when you get me - moi! - arranging wee pots of rainbow-coloured flowers.

And talking of rainbows: that amazing jacket in the photo was a spontaneous, wonderfully crazy gift. Like Cursillo, in fact.