For the first time this year (and I hope not the only time) we have an absolutely perfect Summer's day. The temperature is twenty-four degrees, there is a light wind and the sun is shining. Every flowering plant seems to be covered in bees.
The farmer is busy helping with the silage, I am keeping in the cool, even Tess is keeping in the cool, and we have no intention of going to cast our referendum vote until later on this evening.
Yorkshire pudding has cast some doubt on the way the ballot paper is worded - can't say I think it will make much difference, but we shall never know I suppose.
Do you have days when you don't feel like doing a lot and so sit around reading a novel or knitting or something? Or is it just me? And am I the only one who gets intense guilt feelings about it?