Could it be that after all my whinging about turtlenecks in May that summer has landed on our stoop? As I type on my no office Monday, I am wearing flip flops to showcase my pink toes and a skirt to highlight my pasty pins. It is actually partly cloudy/partly sunny and warm (ish). Maybe even 68.
I do feel a turn in the air. Cats fighting in the back garden. Must mean something hormonal and lunar is upon us. I may risk it all and even do the switcheroo in the closet and move the big sweaters out and the flippy dresses in.
What I do know is that I feel a cloud lifting. Maybe it is weather related. Maybe it is just me coming out of my long winter's hibernation where quiet felt right and inside was better then outside.
Or maybe it is just today that I feel more aligned than I have in a long time. And I have hijacked the office as Mark has taken over the conservatory with flip charts and cups of tea and books and papers. I too need a surface to be thoughtful and to work. Get my head in the game and off the TV.
It is true. Mark said he heard it on the radio today. My All Day Pyjama fantasy is cracking before my eyes.
School puts stop to 'pyjama mamas' Looking at women in their nightwear has become a sight for sore eyes for the principal of one east Belfast primary school. Joe McGuinness of St Matthew's Primary School has written a letter to parents asking them not to wear pyjamas while they drop their children off at school.
What these women don't know is that sportswear is as fantastically forgiving and cosy as the actual jam jams and much more acceptable in the world. Even gives the appearance of being sporty and fit. Amateurs.