Tell nobody this, but it was actually properly sunny today. Yes. Really.
On a bank holiday Monday no less.
We have had the French windows open all day. We have sat in the garden to read our books. The children have played complex games involving trampolines, and dressing up, and bows and arrows and leaping around. They even complained of being too hot at points during the day. Too hot, can you imagine that?
I didn’t complain of being too hot, but that is because, unless I am being peri-menopausal (it is a thing, unfortunately), I am basically reptilian when it comes to warmth.
We went out for a walk, and did not take our coats. Nor did we return fifteen minutes later, shivering and sticking on the kettle to warm our tiny frozen hands.
It is astonishing, frankly.
There is nothing else to tell you, which in itself is a pretty astonishing thing.
I’m scarpering, while the last dregs of warmth linger in the garden.