I expect, that like me, you are all waking up this morning regretting not going to look for the factor 30 which you last used sometime in 2014. Sunshine, the weekend and alcohol are not the best bedfellows for us lily white Brits, and it doesn't matter how many times we turn a lovely shade of lobster, we never seem to learn.
Take yesterday for example. A beautifully sunny Sunday with not a wisp of air around to give you momentary relief. Daughter number one and I were bikini-clad and stretched out on the sun loungers, like a couple of lizards on a rock. It was so hot, that I said to her that I doubted that I would last more than five minutes unless the wind picked up a bit. And then I had a great idea.
Heaving myself from the sunbed, I trotted upstairs and brought down son number two's electric fan. I then grabbed an extension lead, a chair and after some military-style manoeuvres we eventually managed to get the fan ideally placed to waft some breeze over the two of us. It was perfect, and we congratulated ourselves on our ingenuity. And then daughter number one reminded me that son number one also had a fan upstairs, so she grabbed that one and after a few minutes, each of us had a fan pointed up our bodies cooling us down. Daughter number one said that we should call this 'pro-bathing' as it definitely showed commitment to a cause.
And here's where the trouble started I suppose. The breeze masked the heat on our bodies (a bit like blowing on a pan of peas to stop them boiling over) so after an hour or so, we had probably achieved what all of us Brits do on a sunny day, and had 'overdone it'.
It looks like the weather is going to stay like this for a few days, and I would imagine that if the temperature stays as high as yesterday, then I am going to spend most of my afternoons either under the garden sprinkler, or sitting in the car with the air conditioning on. I spoke to a couple of friends yesterday en route to water the vegetables clinging to life in my allotment, and both said that although they were loathe to say it, it 'really was too hot'. I had to quietly agree, but wouldn't say it out loud as the last thing I want is to have to turn the heating back on and get my thermal vests out of the airing cupboard.
So what with yesterday also being Father's Day, I had a houseful of family here, all pushing and shoving to get into the one square meter of shade in my back garden. As the day wore on, we were all sitting around the garden under various shrubs, umbrellas and large hats, like an oversized human dot-to-dot, and conversations were held in very loud voices.
They all eventually went home, and after another vegetable drenching, I settled down for a spot of Sunday night letching with Poldark. No scything this week, but many opportunities for silent gasping at Captain Ross The husband also enjoys this, but definitely not for the same reasons as I do I feel. He says he likes the scenery.
Maybe we do watch it for the same reasons after all...