From the email:
It's fabulous weather right now, hitting about 35 degrees and I lay out in the garden reading the Salmon of Doubt and getting myself my first English tan *Max shifts uncomfortably to reach the aloe vera for her pink shoulders* After I had done my shoulders medium rare I ventured out with water bottle and my coolest (temperature wise!) clothes to Morden Park across the road. It looked like a park for an estate that you would expect to see a BBC period drama set in - huge lawns, large trees and mock Tudor houses rising above the trees on the hills. I was perched on a rustic seat on the top of the park and I kept on hearing rustling in the very dense blackberry bushes behind me. RATS! My god they were huge too. If I hadn't liked Ratty in Toad of Toad Hall ...
The strangest thing about my Sunday of country living was the sky. At 10am in the morning it was a pristine blue, but each time a plane flew over it left a vapour trail that didn't disperse. By 1pm there were 15 vapour trails perfectly intersecting across the sky and as the day wore on they were joined by others. Eventually the older ones began to spread and by 8pm (which looked like our 5pm) the sky was completely covered with the slowly dispersing cloud.
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