This weekend, Summer decided to stop by, and smile on us for a day.
It poked its head through the rainclouds, pitied our pathetic indoor play and invited us out into the open to savour sunshine for a while.
And so, with grateful hearts and sunkissed smiles, we basked in the glory of summer. We lay in a carpet of clover and counted the apples on the boughs overhead, we slathered suncream on our skin and then coated it with a crispy layer of sand, we set up our brand new play tent and played peekaboo until our cheeks hurt from smiling, we pointed at helicopters that passed overhead and horses that passed on the road and waited for John to squeal in delight, we transported the treasures that we'd bought at the food festival out into the garden and watched John snaffle them whole, we wriggled our bodies into the tiny play tunnel and watched John fall about laughing as we found that we were stuck, we abandoned naps and trips and tasks in favour of soaking up the sun, we feasted on cherries and watermelon, Stromboli and brownies, and as evening fell we lit the barbecue and let that evocative scent of summer wash over us like happy memories.
For one blissful day we celebrated the sort of summer that you imagine when you close your eyes and picture it on a bleak midwinter's day, feeling the sunshine slow time to a standstill, and relaxing as the warm weather made our worries slip and slide like the butter left in our butter dish.
And today, when I woke up to rain, I smiled. Because I held a taste of summer tucked up inside me like a secret, and no matter what the weather did, it was staying there for good.