London and I have been having some intense negotiations recently about the finer points of summer. It's been awkward, I'm not gonna lie. We disagree entirely, yet we still have to see each other every day. I start from the premise that summer exists. London seems to think of it more as a construct of fiction, like Hogwarts—or possibly considers us all a bunch of muggles who wouldn't know the difference anyway.
I like heat and sun, whereas London is down with forty-degree mornings and perpetual grey skies. I am not so satisfied with 12 gorgeous days per year, seven of which occur on a trip to Spain. But London's like, let's see you do something about it, kiddo. In the end, I think we both know who wears the pants here. (Both of us, but I only wear them because I'm freezing.)
I vaguely remember a time and place when "I'm too hot" was more than a string of random syllables. In such times and places, a glass of this gently flavored watermelon and cucumber juice with hints of lime and mint would really have hit the spot. So refreshing, so hydrating, so wildly inappropriate for my scarf- and boots-clad life. With any luck, though, some of you will be able to put its cooling properties to good use this season.
Because I'm a big girl now and not prone to fits of jealous rage, I genuinely hope you enjoy it. But if, once cooled, you were inclined to put in a good word for me with the London weather-makers, let's just say I wouldn't turn up my nose at an extra day or two of sunshine.