This is grit

How are you getting along in Hong Kong, Grit?

Wait while I apply the lip gloss. Then I can say,

Fine, thanks!

Well of course I'm not about to say I'm having a miserable time. Grits don't do that. Grits don't give in. We keep to the long view. We gritty types get up again when life comes at us waving an assault rifle, a purple ribbon and a banshee howl. We carry on, because we have no other options.

OK, there are options. They involve gashed limbs, pills, and cliffs. But I am mature. I have now worked out that these are less preferable than head down, keep going. Do that, and my gritty body might yet grow an indestructible backbone and a stronger heart, so trials are for the good.

So today I am doing fine. Thank you for asking. We are settling in nicely.

And the swelling is better. It has responded well to two bags of ice. And the mosquito bites are healing. The huge, red lava lumps that scatter my arms and legs. They are not measles, even if they look like it, so everyone calm down. There is no need to panic. Yes, I know the scratching thing in public is not very attractive, so I am trying to stop that too.

I have showered, also. This is good, at least for the time I am in the shower. The humidity in these tropic parts is so great and overwhelming that half the time I am not sure whether I am in the shower fully clothed, or out the shower, naked. Either way the result is the same. Let's just say that in every waking hour without an air-con unit strapped to my head, I am doing a lot of glowing.

Unfortunately, thanks to the heavy amount of glowing, I have had to give up the make up. The Dior rejuvenation face magic was sliding down my face and dripping off my chin. The mascara had a particularly theatrical look. I stopped wearing it after several Chinese ladies met me on the path to the beach and stopped in their tracks. I could be wrong, but from the expression on their faces I had the distinct idea I may be approaching some sort of uncrossable line.

Anyway, regarding the make up, my mother said that putting on a face makes you feel better. She carefully imposed those vibrant red lips on all her sorrows. I think they helped her. Maybe it helps me too. So I haven't given up the lip gloss.

I saw my mother put those red lips on, then go out into the world. Safe under armour, her mouth would never tell the words, when someone in the street stopped her and asked, How are you doing, Dot? And she would say, Me? I'm doing fine.