It looks like the rainy season is now behind us. Apart from a short, dramatic downpour the other night, the regular pattern of rain every afternoon has come to halt. I’m no weather girl but I’m prepared to wager a bet that the dry season has arrived. Another most welcome arrival is that of my daughter Serena, and her best-friend Kalisha from London. These two wise women came bearing gifts of marmite, vodka, a colossal amount of mature cheddar (which was smuggled through customs in a pair of knickers) bourbon biscuits, custard creams, Branston Pickle, tea bags, Bisto gravy granules and even a bag of pork scratchings. Life doesn’t get much better than this.
Yesterday morning we walked to the beach. The girls wanted to get in some sunbathing and go swimming but mother is now too fat for her swimming costume (there is only so much give in Lycra) so I covered my modesty and lay under a parasol and started reading C.G Jung on Nature, Technology & Modern Life. Despite the fact that I was languishing, fully clothed in the shade I still managed to get sunburnt. This morning I’m sporting an unsightly bright red ‘V’ stretching from my neck down and across my décolletage.