I know I'm going on about it, but this last week's heat has been horrible. It will be over soon, I know, but it sucks you into a limp shell of yourself and all the colour, apparently, from the air. So last night we ate cheese. Even making a salad seemed like too much effort.
Prosecco, straight from the freezer, with slices of white farmers' market peaches disappeared alarmingly fast down our throats. Even the cat hiccuped.
The purple basil on the roof has bolted, so I'm keeping it for the flowers. The basil in the shade is still weeks behind this one.