So, The Summer of Love Has Begun.

After what seems likes weeks of grey damp weather, summer is finally here. It has officially been dubbed the ‘Summer of Love’, because ‘the lord’ is back from Brussels, and it’s Chris and Bernie’s first whole summer here. The weather has been hot and sunny for over a week now, and we're loving it (although the Bakerloo line is already unbearably hot).

Friday night we had Damien over for dinner. Paul was cooking as a thankyou to D and myself for helping him out on a work project earlier in the week. D is looking very brown, (I tell you, the Moors did conquer southern Italy!) and Paul cooked a lovely meal, asparagus with manchego and a vinaigrette, followed by tagliata.

Saturday afternoon we headed down to Balham (in deepest, darkest South London), for the very broad-shouldered Chris and his lovely wife Bernadette’s ‘Farewell Balham, Hello Summer of Love’ party. We started of by chilling out in the garden, then went inside later on for a bit of a dance. Needless to say we missed the last tube, and got a taxi home considerably later than we should have. We had a lovely time because almost all of our favourite people were there. Bernie sortof liturgically danced, but it lacked Sharna’s choreographic input.

Sunday we met the Smith family for a picnic. My day consisted mainly of lifting kids onto monkey bars. I only had one glass of wine! Josh wanted to go on the big Kids slide, but I said ‘No!’. He’s only three, but after seeing another kid about the same age hurtle down, I thought the slide wasn’t that bad. Paul invited him to go on it and he said ‘No, I’m not allowed’. I relented, thinking that if he flew off the thing, taking most of his skin off, at least he would have been happy. He was fine.