The problem with summer (164/365)

It's not the heat, which I'm currently rather enjoying (though it can definitely be too hot sometimes). It's the people. The ones playing loud music in their back gardens near us, or filling the air with the smell of lighter fuel from their barbecues (or today, burning rubber, so I don't know what they're barbecuing. The handles of their tongs, maybe). The ones thronging our normally quiet swimming spot, in particular the ones who turned up and decided that the spot where we were changing and about to get it was the perfect place to moor their boat, told us that they'd paid for the boat and we hadn't paid to swim when we pointed out that we'd been there first, grudgingly consented to stay bow-in to the bank while we squeezed past and ended up arguing with B who was still finishing changing and was slower that me and L, ending up with the oh-so-devastating comeback of "I bet you're not married" (at which I observed that that really was a fucking misogynistic thing to say). No prizes for guessing the gender of our interlocutor. Or whether he had his shirt on or not.

(The water was lovely. I just wish it had been a bit quieter.)