Gimme water

I made a new friend today, although we didn't get off to the greatest of starts. She thought I was Australian, bleedin cheek, still, at least she didn't accuse me of being Welsh. Donna was her name, a school crossing guard or lollipop lady in Britspeak, she took pity on me as I crawled on my hands and knees towards her at the end of a 5k run after I'd dropped the kids off at summer camp. I'd run a couple of blocks (I'm pickin up the lingo already) in stifling heat and wasn't ending my run with much poise, panting like a hot dog and weaving across the sidewalk (there I go again) like a drunken sailor. She shared her water with me and said she'd bring extra tomorrow in case I went running again, I didn't know whether to be grateful or humiliated.

Me and Charlie (3 year old Labrador) had the gaff to ourselves all day, Chris and Taisha were at work. I edited the first draft of my latest book (ooh, get me!). I'm halfway through and haven't felt moved to rip it up and start again quite yet which is a good sign, although I hope Charlie's snoring as I recited an extract wasn't prophetic. He barks sporadically, usually when one of those wee lizards scuttles across the backyard, and he licks my feet under the dining table, I don't know who comes off worse in that encounter.

My tan has advanced from milk bottle white to a kind of tartare sauce cream if that's not too vulgar an image, Russons don't tan so don't expect me to come home looking like David Dickinson. I'm going to spend more time outdoors tomorrow mind which may nudge me from a shade of cream into grey, we'll see. I'll take a gander around the area, maybe shoot some hoops in my sneaks or bust some rhymes down in the hood, either that or buy an English newspaper to read over my beans on toast. Over and out from downtown Boca Raton.