Iridescent

I love the ancient Greek gods. I particularly love that they are just like us, only more. Bigger, badder, better, kinder, meaner to a degree we, never mind the ancient mortals, can't even begin to imagine.

Of all of them, Iris is my favourite. I imagine her flitting gaily like Tinkerbell, along the rainbows and through mists between the heavens and the sea with her messages, stopping every so often to douse perjurers. It says a lot about what Zeus thought of her to entrust her with that responsibility. If you are ever in any doubt about the seriousness of perjury - check out Dante's Inferno and see where it sits.

What I find really interesting is that Iris didn't have iridescent wings. They were given to her twin Arke. Those same wings were torn off by Zeus and given to Thetis, who gave them to her son: Achilles 'of the swift feet'.

And that's why I love the classics - from Ancient Greece to the Renaissance to Edwardian fairy tales made into modern day Disney films: it's all still relevant. And always will be.

I'm feeling better.

(Today's juice is apple, cucumber, celery, ginger and mint: very refreshing.)