I don’t understand when the forecast says it’s 32c but it “feels like 34c”… just say it’s 34c then.

Ice cold shower when I got to try to recover from tomato face mode, then straight up the hill for dinner and tennis at Beano’s. We managed to pause the tennis to catch a couple of sets, over quicker than we expected. Bill cooked this which was bloody delightful, and I opened a vino verde I’ve been saving for suitably sunny day.