In the summertime

28 Jul



Because most blogs I read happen to be located in the Northern Blogosphere (oh god, did I really go there?*) I am being taunted with photos of beaches, picnics, outdoor drinks in the warm evening air. People planning trips to the seaside. People spending days in the park. People curating sweet little outfits with floaty tops and pretty sandals. It is general pictorial torture in the form of summer cavorting.

Admittedly, the heat wave in New York is described with exasperation. But from my cold little apartment where I write this, underneath five duvets and breathing fog, it sounds like a dream. It’s like when your friends go overseas and post albums on Facebook. Except I only know these people via the interweb, and they outnumber my real friends. My Google Reader has become a weapon of self-flagellation.

So Alex, if your pitch to the science community works I vote we teleport further afield than Melbourne and go get ourselves some sun. Sweden maybe? I hear it goes all night there.

* I usually leave blogosphere for the young, the earnest and the old trying to stay relevant. Just for the record.

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