England has been going through something of a warm spell recently. It's been unreasonably hot in the bedroom and we've kept a window open for the last few weeks. Last night Craig even opened TWO windows, a controversial move. As a person with a uh, significant wool collection it is highly controversial to be inviting moths into the house and just emphasizes how desperately hot it's been.
The thing is, it's not THAT hot. If I think this is hot, I would probably just give up living if I were somewhere like South Africa or India. I think I've just become a total wimp when it comes to heat. I was never much of a fan of hot sunny days (yes, I lived in San Diego for over 8 years) and now that I've been living in an area notorious for lack of sunshine I've built this intolerance.
It's not just in my head either. I've actually begun to totally break out in a rash if I stay out in the sun too long or if it's too hot. I know, there goes any chance of becoming a swimsuit model in Bali.
It's even melting my brain. I just remembered I'm supposed to be writing a Paris Part Deux write up. Oops. I guess I'll do that tomorrow or is it enough if I told you it was tres spectacular?