So summer has finally arrived, although exactly how long it is here to stay for is anyone’s guess.
The Greek God(zilla) likes to think of himself as a bit of an amateur meteorologist (don’t get me started…) and is adamant that the rest of July will be dry and sunny.
This is good news, because as soon as the smallest patch of blue sky broke through, the first thing I did was to order a case of rosé.
I do not know what it is about the tiniest hint of sun making me want to spend an afternoon sipping pink wine by the river, but it takes over all of my senses every time.
Although these days, I am much more likely to be found guzzling it in the garden by myself, while the laundry dries.
My summer rituals do not stop there.
Weekday meals have been totally reinvigorated simply by adding the words Al Fresco before them. Many a dreary fish finger has been cheered up with an Al Fresco, and chicken kebabs lifted straight from the barbecue onto my plate can transport me to Greece in a single bite.
Just 9-days into the warmer weather and our fridge is full of all the necessary ingredients required to make up a jug of Pimms, should the mood take us.
Unfortunately, by the time this happens we have usually already devoured all the strawberries and the cucumber is starting to look decidedly soggy.
I have put my knee-high boots back in their box under the bed, and dusted off my flip-flops. I have held off having a pedicure so far, as my experience is that it is often £25 spent on pretty feet never to be seen. However, if the sun continues to tease us with this promise of a proper English summer, me and my leather-look feet ARE THERE!
The Greek God(zilla) keeps talking about playing cricket, and this year he has even played a couple of times.
Both my legs and armpits are shaved. Daily. I cannot bear the shame of getting a bit hot and sweaty at work, taking off my jacket, and finding myself stuck in my very own Julia Roberts moment.
We have finally switched the heating off. Our house feels very drafty in winter so the heating is ALWAYS on. I love being warm, the Greek God(zilla) does not. Flipside is in the warmer weather, our house is an oasis of cool.
There are other things that a rare English summer can bring out in people too.
Like inspire men to walk around bare-chested. You’re in Sainsbury’s mate, not the Costa Del Sol!
Sunbathe in the park, without sunscreen, until they turn lobster pink.
The need to cover every available sunny square foot of grass with a tartan picnic blanket.
Cram on the tube, where 20-degree heat feels like 100-degrees, and drops of a stranger’s sweat will land on your naked arms.
Talk, read and even blog about the weather incessantly.
Summer may be great, but it is not very cool.