Karen remembers childhood splashing out, but the modern day version is overcast with gloom
I do hope we haven’t had our summer. We had such a tantalising taste of it in April when we dug out sandals and sundresses and basked in sunshine, before being plunged back in to wintry days by roaring fires, and then enjoyed another blast of heat early in May.
Every now and then I resolutely head out with bare legs or without a jacket, clad only in delusional optimism. And I always regret it. Because England is like that. Even on days that the sun is shining you usually need a layer to take off the chill. That is, until you get the Mad Dogs and Englishmen heatwave when the temperature soars and we start discarding clothing like our life depends on it.
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