No quite what we had in mind

Our very satisfying plans to go out on the cut for a few days each week to do touch-up painting were foiled by the heatwave, which raged up to 38°C in the saloon. It was a lot hotter than that in the sun. Paint would dry on the brush on its way from the tin. So Grace got to work making the curtains and blinds instead.  It was good to sit out on the jetty amongst the reeds and in the shade of the trees.

Heavy, though brief, rain and equally unenthusiastic thunderstorms broke the heat after a week, and we could again sleep under a light duvet rather than on top of it. But still the painting was out of the question. The rain was totally random and the weather forecasts did nothing beyond telling us that the rain would be totally random. Wet paint and rain don't mix, either. Grace continues with her sewing, and I'm left feeling cheated, and more loose-endy than ever. I'm trying to get on with writing the book, but it's reluctant in the heat. And in the rain. I considered offering to help with the sewing, watched one very long YouTube video about making curtains, and went for a walk.

Needless to say, it rained on me.

Lindsey Anne set out to Oxford today, and our wide views of the marina pond have been returned to us. I don't know if they studied the weather forecast, but it says it'll rain. Randomly.

*****