I'm not a religious man, but I've been silently praying for sunshine to any deity that will listen for at least a couple of months now. Even though neither of the front windows in my car open (on my to do list, don't judge me) nor does the air conditioning work, I'm absolutely delighted - nay, relieved - to see blue skies above once more.
I've proudly unsheathed my pasty white legs for all to see, placed the factor 30 within easy reach on top of the fridge and, most exciting of all, I've completed the biannual Changing of the Duvet ceremony to much inner fanfare. Yes, ladies and gentleman, summer is (if not actually here) on the fast approaching horizon, hurtling towards my vitamin D deprived body.
My newly fitted smart boiler is no longer kicking in with a clunk each evening, which is just as well as the miracle of app-based temperature control was just starting to wear off (though it provided much handheld fun over the winter, except for when I pocket-dialled the temperature in my home up to 29 degrees, meaning I returned from the shops to a veritable oven).
Though, as sure as night follows day, summer will be fleeting and gone before I fully have time to get my eye in, for now, I'm just going to bask in its prenatal glory. And scrape the rust off the barbecue.