Melting

Holy jesus it’s hot. The appeal of a nice cold beer, in a few hours, beckons. It’ll be the usual quiet and restrained evening of course, some shandies, a bite to eat maybe and then home early.

OR

We’ll end up necking beer like it’s running out, spending a fortune for a meal we don’t really want, decide to buy several champagne cocktails at Β£25 a pop (just to try!), and I’ll stagger in as dawn breaks.

Written By

Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

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