Having survived several Kansas summers (and, yāknow, island life for quite a few years) and being a summer fan, I was not expecting to be accepting defeat at the hands of a village in south-east England but here we are. Consider me melted Foxley Heathš«
Donāt let your uncle Charlie hear or heāll laugh himself into stitches
Itās the darn humidity, Iām telling you. Iāve stood amongst active fires and felt cooler.
You better be keeping hydrated, son.












