the wrong clothes....

I've had the wrong clothes on now for months - I've been too hot or too cold and inappropriately attired since about October. I even got it wrong today, because I got dressed for the weather we'd had yesterday (hot)  and it's been cold today - apart for the 10 minutes I stood in the school playground surrounded by other parents who are able to responsibly dress themselves in their summer frocks as I boiled in jeans, a cardi and my cowboy boots. In my defence, I had been sat at my desk all day faffing with my literature review and trying to persuade reticent midwives that what they really want to do with a spare half hour is come and talk to me about.... and when I dashed out of the house to do the school run the heat hit me and I sweltered and boiled, got home, got changed and the sun went in. I apologise for the changeable weather, I think it's probably all my fault.

We spent yesterday sitting in the sun with lovely friends on their lovely deck eating an enormous amount of meat from the barbecue (delighted that my conversion from vegetarianism has coincided with barbecue season). We then spent yesterday evening with lovely new neighbours eating curry and drinking wine. I ate more food and drank more wine than was sensible and had a superb time doing it.

Bob and I painted some rocks, which was more fun than it sounds. They work well for weighing down the corners of the paper when reading outside and have so far survived being left outside in the wet. I like the free form swirly ones. Bob does not. He has surprisingly strong views on modern art for a ten year old boy. 

In preparation for the food feast that was yesterday, and much to Bobs disdain, I joined HWMBO(I) on the dog walk yesterday morning (my going meant that Bob had to come too, despite his protests that at ten he is perfectly able to stay at home on his own) and just look at the loveliness that was on the moor (glossing over, it the interest of bloggy idealism that I had stomped up there like a teenager (it's too hard, I can't do it, if you loved me you wouldn't make me do this etc etc. HWMBO(I) manfully resisted pointing out that it was my bloody idea in the first place and that if I had chosen not to come he would be enjoying the peace. He's sensible like that)