Life is not a race

When Mulier‘s last post, before she broke the latest silence, was more recent than your own last post, you know that you’ve got some blogging to do.

Over here we’ve been living through a heatwave, and apparently August 2nd this year was the hottest ever recorded. What can I say? It’s a small country. We’ve got to be proud of something….

My take on dealing with heat (bearing in mind that I’m not happy with anything above 22°C, because my true homeland is in fact Iceland) is to move as little as possible, drink as much water as possible, and – maybe – do some reading. The summer holiday is about halfway done and my pile of ‘to read’ hasn’t decreased one single volume. At least it hasn’t increased, I suppose….

Having stated that my tactic on dealing with extreme warmth (my use of the word ‘extreme’ is justified by the fact that the train service was using it this week to warn is about even more travel disruptions) is, effectively, to do absolutely nothing, my honesty gene compels me to admit that I’ve also been cycling around like some kind of crazy banshee. No idea how it happens, but a few times this hols – now I truly have no idea how! – I’ve jumped on my bike and pedalled some insane distances. I really don’t know what’s come over me! But it is truly lovely to be whizzing along, in glorious weather, not having to be anywhere in particular….

Of course the first time this happened I was foolish enough to leave home at one in the afternoon, which means that I got quite a lot of sunshine on me. Now I’m stocked up with enough sunscreen to leave me pale ultra-white were I to visit Gibraltar.

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