Oh goody, lunch

For the third night in a row I decamped to the other bedroom, where the sheets were nice and cool, if only for a short time.

A walk this morning, although I should have gone out earlier as it was hot by 10 a.m.  I met a lady walking her dog along the field margins and she was surprised it hadn't been "mown".  I explained that we were trespassing and that farmers really don't have time to mow around the edges.

I've pottered in the garden where it's shady and spent a good bit of time reading The Murders at Fleat House by Lucinda Riley.  I love it when I can dive straight into a book and not want to put it down.  I have to make myself savour it in bite-size chunks.