It's set to be a scorcher today. The temperature is mounting rapidly. And I've got a joint of pork to cook for dinner! I'm already beginning to think I should have gone for a salad instead.
Luckily the eating area of our garden is just outside the kitchen door. This means we can stay outside during most of the cooking time, with just the occasional pop in to check nothing is going up in smoke.
This is such a contrast to our previous home. Then we lived in a first floor flat. Being upstairs you soon realised heat rises. The kitchen was tiny - so tiny it didn't even constitute a room on the census! By the time you got the cooker on you sweltered. (If you shut the door you even sweltered there in the middle of a freezing winter with no heating on, let alone on a hot summer's day.) Instead of cooking, even having salads, we used to spend most such afternoons/evenings in the beer garden of a nearby hotel, the Silverdale Hotel. We would eat there too. Anything to not have to return until the temperature had gone down a bit.
Having a ground floor kitchen and a garden to sit out in certainly makes life so much more pleasant.
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