We are very busy on the taxi rank, and I am going to cut this short this evening. Everybody wants to get in a taxi, and I am finding it difficult to concentrate. Furthermore, even though it has been evening for some time already, it is hot.
It is hot to a degree previously unknown in Windermere, that is to say, it is so warm that you do not need thermal underwear, even in the taxi at night times. It is also unexpected in that it has been going on for days.
We were late to start the day today, because of working last night, and hence I did not manage to set off on my run until the middle of the afternoon.
This turned out to be an astoundingly rubbish idea.
I did not run for very long, because after a while my skin had taken on a peculiarly liquid texture. Salt ran into my eyes, and my feet seemed to be getting fatter by the minute. I tried my best to drive my legs to propel me up the steep banks, but it was as if my knees were trying to dissolve and leak away.
The ground was dry and hard. The little streams that trickle across the path here and there had disappeared. Dust clouded with every step, and crusted my legs.
The dogs did not bound ahead as they usually do, sniffing at things and wagging their tails. They pattered reluctantly along behind me, stopping in the shade at every opportunity, and about halfway up the steepest part, they stopped under a tree and lay down. No encouragement would persuade them to go any further.
I almost joined them.
Instead we turned around and headed down again, slowly.
The journey home seemed to take for ever.
I was fiercely, joyfully relieved to see our house. We all staggered indoors, into the welcoming cool of our underground stone house, and collapsed, the dogs on the floor and me at the kitchen table with a large glass of mineral water laced with orange juice.
My fell running career might have to go on hold until we can go to bed early and I can go out without being the sort of Englishman who is accompanied only by mad dogs. The mid day sun is to be avoided until normal weather is resumed.
Not that I have any objection whatsoever to the sunshine. I have dried two loads of washing this afternoon, and I am pleased to report that by now I am quite sure I have got a full complement of Vitamin D. My normal greyish-blue complexion is beginning to turn a sort of smoked salmon shade. This is very pleasing indeed.
Mark went into the garden and tiddled about with his hydrogen exploder whilst I organised food. Because of the sunshine I fed the children on things like melon, and kiwi fruit, and raw peppers, causing Oliver to look curiously at his plate as if he were a retired spy and I was a large Russian wearing sunglasses.
In the end we had a little sleep, which turned out to be much too little for our liking, and then went to work.
Bowness is bursting with people.
We are very busy indeed.
I will see you tomorrow.
