What a day and what night. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned once or twice or three times how much I hate summer. We went to Morpeth on Sunday, just to wander the streets and look at the interesting architectural features:
and I got sunburnt. Even though I had a hat on, I'd forgotten the sunblock. I have now officially developed what Mr Golightly so charmingly refers to as a 'Westie Tan'. You know, Gentle Readers, the sort of tan on those people who work outdoors, or who don't get to the beach much, so that it starts above the sockline, stops at the shorts, starts again at the neckline up to the face, and all the arms which aren't covered up.
I wouldn't mind so much, but I've got a bunch of white spots (absence of melanin) on my arms, and with the combination of brown skin with white spots and white skin with sandfly bite scars, I look like some kind of alien.
What else? Sleep was hard to come by, even with the southerly sweeping through at about 9.30pm, but eventually I went off, but today I feel like I usually do after a bad summer sleep. Crappy.
I have lots to do today, shopping for food for the Hordes** who are descending tomorrow, and maybe, in the afternoon, a spot of sewing. I'm going to start on a dressing gown, I think. Mine first, so I can iron out all the bugs before I make the other two. The fabric?
And for Az:
And now, Gentle Readers, much as I would love to crawl back into bed for an hour or so, the siren song of Woolworths is too hard to resist, and I must away, away to the supermarket.
**Quasi-Annual BBQ for the Friends. Usually fun. Usually.