It seemed to be pushing 30 degrees yesterday - so naturally I choose to spend the afternoon doing laundry. Normally I am quite happy at the laundromat, even oddly so - I think it's the low drone siren song of the chorusing washers and dryers. And I am never too warm. People can be running around in tank tops and hot pants, and I might, might, remove one layer of sweaters. But even I was challenged by the mid-afternoon temperatures. By the time I'd matched and folded that last pair of socks, I was in a stupor and deeply needed a chilled-latte revival. Fortunately downtown St. John's is awash in cafes, which propagate dandelion-like along Duckworth and Water Streets. I only had to stagger a very few feet before I encountered an aproned barista. (What on earth did people do in the pre-ice-blend-green-tea hazy summer days of yore? Went for the old H20 I guess.)
(Image: smaland.co.uk.)
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