The Joy of Sun

I have 22 pc battery power left on my laptop, so I'd better make this quick.  It helps that I also desperately need the loo so this is going to be a drive-by blogging - so to speak.  I don't really have a point for today's post (why change now?) also touching cloth makes it very hard to concentrate ...too much info?  OK.  I'll refrain.  I guess I just want to record, for posterity, before the irreparable rip of reality takes away this gorgeous summer loving we've been enjoying here in London and much of the UK (but not Wales or Scotland...that would just be weird).  It's just been so freaking deliciously warm and sunny.  It's been a summer of blue skies, hazy, balmy nights and happy chirpy citizens.  And I love it. It's what I imagine living on the West Coast of America might be like. I fantasize that I am in fact walking down a road in San Fran or meandering through the LA hills..cept you can't walk in LA as the distances, I've been told, are deceptively far (also it's probably not that safe).  Additionally, since turning vegan, I've lost a lot of that middle age spread that creeps onto backs, ribs and hips to the point that last week I was able to dig out two dresses I last wore when I was 31 (more than 10 years ago and we'll leave it at that) which now fit me perfectly again.  In fact, I remember the yellow strapless dress in particular feeling tight-ish back then and promptly being relegated to the back of the wardrobe whence it stayed until last week.  The unsightly hip and lower back chunks - the muffin top and cake shelf - are gone and I'm having one last body honeymoon before even veganism fails this old frame of mine.  And if you are thinking about the wisdom of a 42 year old wearing little cloths from the early 90s again, yes you'd be right, I am just on the cusp of "mutton" here but fear not, I make sure I only wear these kerchief-like dresses with flat shoes.  The face is still that of a 42 year old (albeit a well preserved one) and I do apologise in advance to any young man who has thought it was his lucky day only to have me turn around and be reminded it's been a while since he last called his mother.  At this stage, I'll consider that a compliment.

I'm off to Canada next week where mental met illness - to see the outlaws.  It will be strange arriving looking brown as a berry from London sun.  Were it not for the fact that I'm there to visit people, rather than places I'd hardly deem a holiday worth it this year.  Now that's the joy of sun.