As I swelter under this oppressive never seen before heat, I find myself glaring upward at the strange and mysterious ball of fire that has taken up residence in our clear cloud free skies. Thirty seven degrees tomorrow. Thirty seven. I live in Wales for goodness sake, not the blasted slopes of Mount Doom. Yet here we are, with the government issuing warnings as if the sun has suddenly discovered our postcode.
And of course my mind wanders back to last years oppressive never seen before heat, during which the government also issued warnings. It is almost as if it gets really hot every summer. A shocking revelation that will no doubt require a committee, a report, and a sternly worded leaflet.
So as I dutifully consider the latest instructions on how to survive the blazing inferno, I find myself asking the same question I asked last year. “How exactly am I supposed to stay hydrated if I do not drink coffee or alcoho?. That removes everything I normally drink. What am I meant to hydrate with. Hope. Determination. The tears of a confused dragon?”
Make your mind up Westminster! Do I hydrate, or do I avoid coffee and alcohol. It is impossible to do both.
At this point I will simply stand in the garden, and let the sun judge me.
