It’s been a pretty grey and rainy summer so far. Zeph has pointed out a few times that it’s too cold to wear sandals to school much to his annoyance. Today was the blazingly hot summers day you would hope for in June.
One hot day.
I’m already too hot and really cross.
I’m just not brilliant at sweltering heat. Basically my fine figure insures I’m toasty warm on quite chilly days. So the baking sun gives me a headache. Unlike my sister who physically needs the sun as much as any basking lizard.
I’ve spent the day wafting around the house, administering cold drinks and freeze pops to my giggling naked children and sitting under the hideous ceiling fan that I curled my lip up when we looked round this house before we bought it. Before I experienced the pleasure of its gentle breeze. I’ve learnt to never look at it and appreciate its cooling capacities instead.
We spent a happy hour before bed watering some of the plants and getting our bare feet wet. It was balmy warm and there were bats in the evening sky. The paving stones were still warm and the garden smelt divine. I’ve got some night stocks flowering and their scent seeps across my tiny patch. As the light gets dimmer they seem to glow and attract moths who hover around them kissing their pale faces. This is definitely my favourite part of a hot sunny day. This and the early morning, full of blue sky promise.
Of course the good thing about living in britain is it’ll be raining in a minute. Although we are technically gripped by drought. So I’ll just stock up on freezepops and try not to whine.