... it is still hot.
Not perhaps as hot as on the ninth day, but an insistent steady heat that refuses to go away, even at midnight. On this day of heat it is perhaps not surprising that the colour orange has featured.
The morning was spent with a friend who had kindly agreed to take me dress shopping. Showing impressive reserves of tolerance, my friend steered me through the minefields of David Jones women's department (both floors) and a series of boutiques in Litte Collins Street, Collins Street and the GPO. We finally emerged victorious with two dresses and a pair of sandals. But not before I observed that my friend was showing a very unusual penchant for orange dresses, admiring and exclaiming over them at every turn. I have never seen her wear orange, nor seen a single orange object in her home (which is almost totally all white, with a few discreet splashes of blue and yellow).
On arriving home after a pleasant detour to Ponyfish Island, I decided it was time to tidy up the beautiful but fading flowers which had been delivered for my birthday. The lilies, baby cabbages and greenery were consigned to the compost, but the orange orchids are still thriving and the yellow rosebuds make a beautiful display in a Moorcroft dish.