Thursday 1st August 2024

Another day, another day where forecasted thunderstorms don't reach us. Just about every city in France seems to have had at least one storm this week. We're just 23 miles away from the French coast, and we see nothing.

Only it was dark and gloomy at dawn. So dark lights had to be put on to be able to make coffee or see the keyboard.

Outside, steady rain fell, and low mist hung in the treetops the other side of The Dip, but no thunder. No lightning.

And only light winds to blow the clouds through, though by lunchtime the clouds thinned and the sun came out.

Temperatures and humidity soared, and so I opened the front door to let a breeze through and cracked on with work.

Reports to fine tune, meetings to arrange and host, and then the usual new flavour of chaos to get my head round.

I do go for a walk late in the afternoon. It was half one, and I needed my head clearing. But it was hot, humid and so after making it across the field, I turned back, and was a ball of sweat by the time I returned.

I saw a Comma, several Red Admirals and what looked like a Painted Lady, but flew off. Hedgerows are full of blooms, elderberries are already ripe, and soon blackberries and sloes will ripen too, if the farmer doesn't flay the hedges, which is what he's done the last two years.

Sigh.

I walk back home, pour a beer and sit with Scully on the patio as she snoozes and purrs, happy that she has company.

Dinner is easy: burgers in some offcuts of toasted focaccia with cheese and mushrooms, followed by the last two slices of the limoncello and grappa tart.

By half seven, we were full.

Enough with the doomscrolling, so I went and had a shower, read the season preview in WSC, and to bed.

Soon be the weekend.