Having a Plupp of a day

My favourite cosmetic product is probably the blusher - even though the older I get, the less cosmetic I tend to use. Perhaps it should be the other way around, or perhaps I've just become older and significantly wiser hence realising there is such a thing as inner beauty. And I really don't want anything to come between the world and my inner beauty. One can also explain it with the words becoming lazier with age.

But nevertheless, inner beauty can be in badly need of a boost now and then, and the blusher is a fun little thing with which you can conjure away paleness and weariness. Used wisely it can truly make miracles. During the most time of the time of the year.

But now is fortunately the time of natural blusher. Love it! Summer, sun, outdoor, wind, Toy Car, who needs artificial blushers?! Not the older and considerably wiser yours truly anyway.

Twice in my life, so far, I've actually sort of burnt myself in the sun, ages ago in Crete and some years ago while in Barcelona not wearing head covering. And perhaps a slight bit in ZA, where I was meticulous with sunblocker, but my poor back still got a bit too much the first couple of days. Other than that, I get easily tanned and know my own limits of sun-exposure. Ordinarily.

Then we have the Toy Car-outings, well, the sun exposure is a bit much sometimes. And only on certain parts, not always very even. A bit of a Janus-face really. Or more of a Janus-torso perhaps.

And having had a really lovely day out and about with the Toy C - just so my fresh-from-the-study-of-Pia-hearty-necklace finally could get a proper welcoming to a Swedish summer, of course - my face, chest and arms are all naturally blushed. I prefer to call the nuance sweet wild strawberry, evil tongues would probably call it a grumpy red tomatoe.

Or perhaps that I look like Plupp - that dear old book many of us used to love when children - come to think of it, the hair, my hair, looks quite a bit like Plupp's at the moment... Toy Car-hair, minus the blue colour.

By the way, you totally know the hair is Toy Car Plupp-like when M - one who usually can't tell the difference between detergent and shampoo - utters the magic words of "I think your hair really needs a hair-pack..."

So now I'm treating the hair wisps and their friends tufts to a deeply repairative one. Before that I was a really good - once again in a very short period of time! - gardener and planted a whole bunch of bright red poppies, blue cornflowers and white daisies - see, in the spirit of Plupp! - in the flowerbeds of my garden.

I didn't buy the plants. I didn't get them as a gift. And I don't think one could call it stealing. I just got them from a *very* secret, sort of public place. I wasn't the only one toddling about collecting those red-blue-whites though. But I'm pretty sure I was the only one showing off my underwear - as close as my inner beauty goes - to a beglamoured audience of fellow pickers.

When I heard a chuckle from the proud carrier of Elvira I knew something was up, and up it sure was, the pink catch had been caught by the wind and sort of did a little Seven Year Itch-impersonation all by her little self.

And no it wasn't very Monroe-like, more Plupp-like glowing with inner beauty. But I both got my flowers - to hopefully create a garden that my grandpa' would be proud of - and lightened up the fellow-pickers day with showing off my close-to-inner-beauty. Not too bad for a day's work I think.

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