From white to deep-fried in 0-60
The house is a mess. We have no food. I have stacks of newspapers, magazines and books to read. And something somewhere smells. But, as we’ve learned this summer, if the weather’s nice, you go out and enjoy it because it’s bound not to last. Today is cloudy and gray, but yesterday we had this:
The sprinkling of colors over the sand in Broadstairs made me glow. This beach is a lonely ghost town in the winter. Though something in the glory of the summer sunshine made me cringe. I think it was all the pale people laying themselves out for the deep fry. We saw so many people red and crispy, blistering at the edges, and still going out for more. Maybe it’s a British thing? Crunchy husband still isn’t quite broken of the “you have to get burned on holiday so when you go back to work people know you’ve been somewhere” mentality. AY!