Craic On

We’re living through Goldilocks weather. It’s been too hot to sleep. Then it was too wet for my tomatoes to ripen, too cloudy for the runners to flower. The plums at the top of the garden are now looking glistening pink, but even the satisfaction of an endless supply of plumb jam has limits. I’m restless. All of this against a backdrop of staying at home. The daily constitutional is getting to be a chore. What do you do to pep it up a bit? I take every opportunity that comes my way. I’ve tried the zoom dinner party. I’ve got a film list I’m working my way through. I’ve extended my reading into new territory. All of this is well and good, but what I really crave is something a little more visceral: something that offers a less thought through reaction and just brings a moment of joy. The God Daughter has been going to the beach. “Are you mad?” I asked. It wasn’t a question but more of a statement of fact. “Why would you want to sit in a traffic jam and compete for space with thousands of other people and