Being from Arizona I very frequently underestimate the power of the sun in England. Sunburn? In England? Surely not possible!
It is, I assure you. When we left yesterday it was slightly overcast and cool. Grabbing the sunscreen was a thought that never even occured to me. The route I had mapped out for our long Sunday walk was longer than I anticipated and we ended up spending something like 4-5 hours in what turned into lovely, blue skies and sunshine weather. Eating our lunch on benches overlooking the Solent, walking along the seafront, laying in the sun and playing frisbee, sitting by the flower beds and admiring the roses in the Southsea Rose Garden. By the time we got back to the car Mommy, Daddy and Rafey were all lobster red. (Well, Rafe wasn’t that bad, he had a hat on most of the day so it was only his shoulders that were burnt.) The other two have darker complexions so were spared the actual redness of sunburn, though now they have MUCH darker complexions!
Later in the evening I developed a nasty headache and just felt awful- D was quite sure I had developed mild sunstroke. Which I think must be a sign that I am getting old. Growing up 100 miles from the Mexican border I had no shortage of lobster red, crackling/peeling skin sunburns. The type where you can’t even move without crying out, laying down is out of the question because it was always your back that got the worst of it and you spend the next day hunched over a fan with wet cloths all over your back. And this was WITH sunscreen! And NOW I get sunstroke? Definetly getting old.
I worried about the kids, initially but they are fine. As obviously kids tend to be. Little buggers. I think we’ll be spending next Sunday indoors, playing scrabble.