Thursday, March 29, 2012
But I probably shouldn't.
I'm enjoying it while I can, though. I've taken to dressing for work in inappropriately summery attire. (You would still totally take legal advice from a person wearing jaunty nautical stripes, wouldn't you?) I've spent every day shivering in the icy winds gusting through the office from the cranked-up air conditioning, and shooting occasional death stares outside at the sunshine. "Look at that sunshine, just... flaunting herself right outside my window, with her... rays. That hussy. Damn her and her big shiny, beautiful face. Whatever. Pass me my straw hat."
At least we've had the evenings; the glorious, long, almost-sort-of-balmy-if-you-huddle-together evenings. Evenings made for leisurely strolls. Just me, the hubster, half a million people crammed into a hurriedly-constructed beer garden, and the dog. And her one ear. (She does have another one, I swear. She's just keeping it under wraps.)
I can't believe it was this time last year that I wrote this. We were in Aviemore again last weekend, but instead of hitting the slopes, we were hitting the beach. I'll give you this, Scotland: you certainly know how to keep us on our toes.
How have you been enjoying our freaky mini-summer? What do you think the chances are that it will be like this in June when we go to stay on a stupid Scottish island for a week instead of going on a proper holiday to a hot place like normal people? Please say very high. Thanks.