Summertime, summertime, sum-sum-summertime

[shewhomust]

It seems to be summer. I had completely forgotten how that goes. Seriously, not being funny about that yellow thing in the sky at all. There was a week on Lindisfarne with sunshine and flowers and not being rained on, and I thought "How nice, it's summer. And it's even quite warm when the sun hits my back just so..."

It is now doing actually warm. Not by the standards of my friends who live in actual deserts, but warm enough to make it quite difference to work here in the attic in the afternoons, when all the heat rises and the sun falls on my screen so I can't see most of it.

We took some miscellaneous rubbish up to the tip yesterday morning, and passed a field that was scarlet with poppies, a solid carpet of red sprinkled with something white - maybe those big daisies which have been so impressive this year. Didn't stop and look, as we were on a mission to the tip and then Sainsbury's.

Which is why dinner tonight was a sort of deconstructed salade niçoise (because a proper salade niçoise requires too many ingredients to be practical for just two people) with onion and olive rolls (mine, and very light - hooray! - but reluctant to part from the baking tray) and a Provençal rosé, pale pink, quite acid, very cold. A perfect summer supper.

But I'm still dreaming of heading north.

Comments

[desperance.livejournal.com]

the standards of my friends who live in actual deserts

Karen is being deeply thankful today that the temperature has crashed down to 80F. We've been mid-nineties for the last week. I loved it, naturally; I have yet to recognise the concept of "too hot".

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

I have yet to recognise the concept of "too hot".

Your summers, like your curries, go beyond my comfort zone. This is not news.