Hot hot hot!

No one is allowed to complain about this completely gorgeous hot weather. Not even small babies or old ladies. Not even those who have to clamber on to the (oh my god it must be fierce down there) tube. Its hot! Its England! Its not raining!
I have two half litres of water in my freezer and some apple juice. For either drinking or just pressing against hot parts of my body at various points in the day.
I'm hoping the heat will dry out the god-darned snails / slugs demolishing my new and not so gold marigolds.

However, what are the chances, now that I've bought a frock for a wedding on Saturday, that it pee's with rain all weekend?

Deneise & Lucas! Back on with a passionate kiss which I caught a glimpse of whilst flicking between Murray & Enders (well it was 5 sets afterall, not like 1/2hour would make much difference. Was it just me or was the post-match-interview just completely idiotic pointless and painful to watch? Poor dehydrated utterly exhausted Muz - first time I've ever felt sympathy for Muzza - you could see he was just dying to get off court and sit on the loo for a couple of hours reading The Daily Mail, and all the moronic guy with the mike could do was ask him what he'd be dreaming later... DUH? ).
Bradley - just a bumbling idiot who has no control over anything he ever wants to do (except for blushing - like, for-real, on set). Predictable love story coming up AGAIN with Jack & Roxie. Yawn. What if Ronnie comes back? But Amy needs you, Jack. Oh, confusion between two equally rough sisters with bad hair. And OH! Phil you old love rat you. Stealing Minty's girlfriend from under his nose. I can't work out which is the worse of Phil or Minty? As an actress having to snog one or the other which is the least offensive? They both have sagging jowels. I once saw Minty in Crouch End sitting outside a pub with a few empty jars of beer in front of him. That's about as exciting a story as I can muster about an Enders 'star'.
Actually I don't really care for any of these sub-plots. The most important thing has been pushed aside: Stacey! Where has she gone? She's been off the script for ages - does this mean she's rehearsing extra-hard to learn how to become a right-proper-loon? It better be a good plot when she returns.
Actually. I can't really be bothered to think about East Enders at all. Oh no? What's happened? Has it lost its mojo? Have i lost my mojo? God! shit! is this something to do with turning 35? Over night I become allergic to soap opera's and develop an interest in self-help books? Maybe I should find a self help book on learning to love soap again? There must be one out there.

Or maybe my antipathy has something to do with the weather. I can't even be arsed to tell Liz to switch off the TV which she's been in front of since yesterday lunch time. I think she's seen 8 cycles of C-Beebies without noticing. And I just can't be bothered.

Come on. Bake snails, Bake.