So far this June has been a predominantly 17 degrees month, with a few real scorchers spread sporadically through to keep our faith in a decent British summer alive. But rain or shine, it's summer, and therefore I will be ritualistically queuing at the ice cream van, be it in my coat or shorts, to celebrate the one totem of summer that this damned weather cannot spoil- frozen, sugary goodness.
I may not get a tan but my teeth are sure to rot.
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