We're back in Delhi for the first time since June. Thank god it's not 120 degrees. The air is still thick, but this time of year it's an almost (and I emphasize *almost*) pleasant mix of mist and smoke in the evening. The smoke reminds me of the smell of the street vendors in Mexico roasting corn in the husk, or the smell of the smoke that drifts through Austin when they start burning all the old crops down there. When Broch walked out on the balcony of our flat this morning he said, "I'm already getting used to the smog... it smells like normal air to me!" 

Jaya, or tiny cook, showed up first thing to make us coffee and breakfast. She  headed out to her next client having left lunch on the stove for Broch and me. Broch can't believe that she's a grown-up yet no taller than he is. She's adorable. And he loved the way she makes omelets. Let's just hope he thinks the same of her curries.

In the street the different "wallahs" pass by, shouting out whatever it is they're selling. The vegetable wallahs had a beautiful selection, but I'm too jet lagged to take advantage, plus just want to wallow in the ease of having someone else shop and cook for a while. 

We're finally unpacked, so we're off for a walk to the neighborhood park. In the smoke.