On the Seventh Day ...

And on the seventh day he rested.  A bit of a sleep-in this morning to repair, replenish and reward after what has been a major shock to the body and joints.  Besides my wife was busy and someone needed to remain home and hold down the fort, so to speak.  As we all know, Thais are not wont to waist a perfectly good holiday by rushing through it in a day or two.  Our village New Year festivities continue, showing no sign of abating before tomorrow at the earliest.

If the success of an event can be measured by the extent of the traffic jams surrounding them, surely the annual Chiang Rai flower festival is a resounding success.  I felt as though I were back in Bangkok traffic.  Last Monday we were in town anyway so were sucked into the lure of the event.  The flowers were pretty and we made a few purchases for our garden.  My preference runs toward botanical gardens like Butchart Garden in Vancouver.  My wife and her niece seemed to enjoy themselves, however, even though we returned home much later than normal or expected.

So here I am at home, Cookie asleep at my feet, while my wife exhausts herself trying to fulfill our social obligations.  A win-win for all, one might say.  I’m happy enough to stay off the roads for awhile longer.  Allowing the drinking to subside and the Bangkokians to return to there congested home.

I suggested to my wife that she might try her hand at being a guest writer, here.  Having been unable to find time for her own writing project lately, I’ll not be holding my breath, waiting for her to grace these pages.  She did take the camera to the temple festivities yesterday and I have her images loaded into Aperture so may as well share with you, what she sees through the lens.