The pool hit 28 C yesterday (my kind of temperature) and by 11.00 this morning it was already up to 27 C. At 17.00 this afternoon it had hit 29 C. Now, to most people, this a good temperature to cook eggs, not me bruv, it's the perfect temperature to enter the pool and so I did, without any squealing, and for the first time this year. Who's a big brave boy?
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This made me laugh. This morning I read a succinct description of the languid England Team Manager, Sven Goran Eriksson. "He shows less emotion than a koala bear in a coma."
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Tim, our German neighbour, who we haven't met before, pops in to say hello. He works in the film industry and mostly around Paris, so it's a bit of a bummer that his house is 500 hundred miles further south. Anyway, he is very nice, speaks three languages fluently and is now our tenuous link to Hollywood.
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