I write this in a mid-morning break on a Monday morning. Above us, from the scaffold that overlooks the river, is a pale sky bled of colour by the unsympathetic sun. Even standing in the full sun for twenty minutes is enough to make rivulets of sweat seep down your back and into the various unsightly areas below.
Basically, it's bleedin' hot, guv!
Being British we like to complain about the weather: usually it's raining and grey, and then, with days like today, it's hot enough to invoke a mild delirium in people - especially drivers, and to provoke dreams of swimming pools and chilled water. And I tell you now, from standing in what ever shade I can, the view over the River Seven looks inviting enough.
Of course, it's dangerous to be so exposed on days like these, so we try to engineer whatever cover we can: a wide tarparlin is better than nothing, and being high up we do get to benefit from the breeze.
But nonetheless, spare a thought for us decorators operating on external painting jobs this week!
Blimey!