The evenings have started drawing here in England. It's undeniable. And so one is forced to review the summer as it enters the home straight. It's been a fairly shit one - no real heat, plenty of rain and wind. This is troubling as the winters in this neck of the global wood are long and dull, like episodes of Gardeners' World, and the idea of entering one without a tan is troubling. Even we northern hobbits are human and need to feel the sun on our backs from time to time.
I'm luckier than most in that I get away on holiday quite frequently, but even I've only got one more trip south in the diary this year, and that one's quite late in the season. We're off to Andalusia right at the end of September. It should still be hot, but we're only going for a long weekend, so it's a bit hit and miss. And I need some sun and some snorkeling. Really need it. I haven't snorkeled once this year. How the fack did that happen?
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