The Heat is on.

Serves us right for hoping we would get a summer this year.  Typically after what seems like years of mediocre summers, which somehow still manage to break records pertaining to things summery, we get this.

The heat in the East Anglian bit of blighty has reached the point where sitting still is now activity enough to ensure the sweat runs down your arms and back.

Dogs have had further haircuts in an effort to make their lives more comfortable but they still show no desire to do much more than lay in a shady spot or on a damp towel.

I have seen people sunburnt to the point it makes me wince to see it.  The combination of a sea-breeze they are not used too, the reflective ability of water and lying prone for hours has taken a nasty toll on some people.

Now there is a heat health warning from the Met.  Heat and humidity does me no favours at all.  32degrees seems on the cards, but they say the temp at night and the humidity is the real concern.  Given 32C already sounds like problem enough I am taking it easy.  Killing yourself for work is one thing, killing yourself for enjoyment is a different level of stupid.

My insistence of being indestructible has nearly killed me on more than one occasion.  So this time I am taking my non-superman status seriously and giving myself a break.

The idea of not getting out into the countryside because it is “too nice” seems insane.  Still, there we go.  I have a lot that can be done that falls into the “pottering about” category.

Hopefully later in the year the stars will align, work, weather and opportunity will coalesce and I will be sleeping under those self-same stars.