It’s blazingly hot in Cambridge, forecasters blame a bubble of warm humid air from Spain and the pre-dawn was thick with thunderstorms. Sleep still comes slowly and departs early, and the extra hours are keeping my resolutions to tame work and balance better.
I’m still fixing my tech: eBuyer ran out of stock on a new netbook so I had to re-order elsewhere. My beloved camera died and its off to repair; my phone was returned unrepaired by O2 and is re-returned. The internet and house power are slowing and disconnecting in rhythm with the weather.
So life eases back towards quieter pre-internet living. I’ve rescued a few more plants and my container-herb gardens are thriving. Duck is better cooked slowly than quickly, but it doesn’t keep for leftovers. My fish pie is rubbish but I make a killer fresh tomato soup / gazpacho. My shoulder improves with just a bit of swimming (that hobby started on a bet). And the neighbors are dropping by, sometimes with good tidings, sometimes bad, so long as there’s mint for the Pimms.
Some things about British summers are eternal.