Her Next Door

See, I can spare you another cherry blossom fest if I try very hard. It is difficult though, when every avenue in the Meadows is lined with pink blossom, startlingly pink against the lime green new leaves on the trees and the cricketers in their dazzling whites underneath.

I don’t care if it’s 17°, it’s not the much vaunted heatwave in my book unless there is sun involved. Although there was sun at 7am when I took this blip, it had disappeared by 11am. It seems we beggars in the Central belt are doomed to overcast skies. Still, I managed to be outside this morning without a jacket and in the Dower House, the central heating is not on. That’s quite something.

Update. The sun has appeared again this afternoon, so I declare it to be a mini heatwave.