Bubbly

It is, I must admit, quite pleasant as the sun goes down on an incredibly hot day, to sit outside on the balcony and consume a bottle of not-quite-bubbly between the two of us.
'Tis also a bloody miracle. In recent times I have been only able to have one glass of anything before overheating and then feeling quite bothered.

Lunch again on the Drive - although not at Havana this time.
I know, I know, it looks as though I'm looking for Lady Love, but honest guv, that isn't so, 'tis just co-incidence that two days in a row I have had reason to strut my stuff on Commercial.

The heat and humidity have been at a level today that makes me want to sit in a cold bath somewhere.
Instead, I wrecked the internal workings of the wardrobe, abandoned Kevin at Home Depot to have to walk home bearing new fitments in the blazing sun; sat in the traffic jam around East 49th, that I had somehow forgotten about since yesterday, but with the new and divine in-car air conditioning that Honda assures me has no adverse impact on fuel consumption, it didn't leave me wilted and weak.
They wouldn't lie to me would they?
Not Honda, surely.

When I returned, Kevin and I went to nosy around at the Open House of a neighbour. It is on the market at 30 grand more than we paid and is significantly smaller than ours. This made me feel smug until Kevin pointed out that it had better not sell at that price or property tax would go up.
d'oh!
Then I painted walls until I almost dissolved in my own sweat.

Sitting on the balcony, drinking fizzy wine, we watched a little brown, as yet unidentified bird, bathe in dirt.

Oh and Pompey won the FA cup. First time since 1939.
I hope this doesn't mean another war with Germany. I've grown quite fond really.