It was roasting hot at 10.15 on Sunday night. I sat in the darkening garden with Toots and The Maytals' Funky Kingston drifting through the kitchen window. It was one of those fleeting but near perfect moments. Now, a day later (at the time of typing) it's clouded over and looks like rain. Thirty six hour summer. Sing it Toots.
Sunshine here today and the storm's freshened everything up, so this is perfect.
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