The past couple of days in West Dorset have been glorious. Blue skies, warm sun, tweety birds – the whole shebang. I love Summer and the arrival of this weather is very welcome – it always seems to appear just when I think that the grey winter days have totally worn me down and the rest of my life will be lived in monochrome. HOWEVER, I am completely unprepared for this early taster. It pains me to say it but please, Summer, can you just hold on for a little bit longer?
My case, your honour, is as follows:-
- All my Summer clothes were still in the loft.
- Having scrambled up and down from the loft I realized that, due to my child free Easter diet (wine/chocolate/cheese & onion crisps) all said clothes are now way too tight.
- The colour of my legs – milk bottle would be a kindly term. They look like they have been dipped in some sort of radio active fluorescent leg wash.
- Everything is hairy.
- Feet. My heels are so hoof like that I could easily be mistaken for Mr Tumnus. Great for fancy dress but not so much for the flip flops.
- Skin. Winter, central heating, general lack of body maintenance all means that I need at least a month of intensive moisturization, unless I want to leave a trail of skin flakes wherever I go, Hansel and Gretel style.
- School uniform. The teen and the tween are out of the gingham summer dresses at school (*sob*) but they can’t sweat through lessons in black opaque tights and long sleeve shirts – seasonal uniform update needed.
- Garden. Sorting out the garden for Spring keeps falling off the end of the to-do list. How am I going to Instagram photos of shiny happy people sipping prosecco in the fairy lit dusk if I don’t move the wheelie bins and actually plant something?
- Music. There is nothing even nearly worthy of a Summer playlist around at the moment.
- Flab. To put it bluntly, the ripple factor is just too high. I need to dust off the pilates DVD and re-introduce myself to my core.
So Summer, please take pity on me. I promise to lose weight, exfoliate, depilate and activate. Just give me another month or so and I’ll be ready for you. In the meantime every magazine cover that screams “Get Summer Ready Now!”, “Drop A Dress Size For Summer!”, “You Can Have That Dream Bikini Body!”, will be off the shelf and into my shopping basket, pronto. Now, I must make an appointment to get my feet in shape, where is the phone number for the