Despite reports of warmth and sunshine 'sooth' Orkney is in the depths if a mini-ice age. The longest day passed under a drizzle of grey (not interesting enough for more than two shades here). It also passed under a fleece a jumper, scarf and hat. As the high point of mid summer passes, I fear for our sanity. We do glimpse the sun, at least I think that's what the seldom seen yellow ball in the sky is called.
So for fear if depressing you all, mostly under several layers, I remain sullenly silent. Best all round.
In more exciting news I harvested (with a witness, in case of insanity) the first mini cucumber if the season. Coaxed into life in a polytunnel. Given my layers and frozen bones, it seemed oddly out of season.
So I'm dreaming of warmth and summer, not a flower on the elders yet. Cordial making still a dream.
Wishing you all well, but do refrain from telling me you're too hot. I may lob my hot water bottle at you.
Yours, in fleece pyjamas, nestled beside a blazing wood stove, in the maddening land of apparently mid summer and eternal lightness (and gales).