Scorching

Excuse the tabloidy header, but what else can I say...

There's flesh on show today, and my usual walk to the park became a small picnic and duck feeding couple of hours.

I feel some sympathy for those who resemble beetroots and look as though they'd like to be in an ice bath.   Although, they still strip off and baste themselves for longer than I think can be healthy.

I get strap marks, but thankfully not ones that make me look like I'm in pain.   Smug boast over.
I'm a target for mosquitoes and other things that bite, so I can't feel superior for long.  Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas, but after that, the warm weather can't come quickly enough.

I wanted to be involved with the South Coast fashion week this year, but I joined the agency just too late to be included or booked.  I've had to content myself with having a look at what went on via YouTube.  There's always next year.

This restless feeling will be calmed next week when I have a day at Bannatyne's spa in London with mum.   My daughter is off for her trip to the South of France, passport nightmares permitting, so I have some free time to hassle agents, and get things done.

I'm a list-maker and I fully intend to punish my goals for the summer... Stephen Sutton and his bucket list really galvanised me into action.  He was inspirational in every way.   Time and tide wait for no-one and he packed a lot of living into his few short years.

Enough talk now, I fancy a bowl of pasta and some herbs, a light tossed salad and maybe a sneaky glass of something... A little one.   Can't hurt.

Happy sunbathing.