Shipston-on-Stour, Sunday, 21st July, 2013.

A lovely little drive out to the edge of The Cotswolds for brunch at Vicky's favourite 'at work' Tea Room: Mrs Browns. 

Guess who's having the Bacon and Garlic Mushroom on Granary sammidge.

Searching for the Jazz Fest, Birmingham, Saturday, 13th July, 2013.

We could have gone to Silverstone today but we agree that it is far too hot to be traipsing 'round there from corner to corner. Much better to go into Birmingham, have a nice Italian at Carluccio's, and then check out the Jazz Fest.

Hmmmm, but where is it exactly? 

Surprisingly, it's not here, although Mary Poppins is on for free on a fairly big screen!

It's not in the Mail Box either but at least David spots his new look for the Autumn season in the window of Harvey Nicks.

Nope, definitely no Jazz-persons 'round here.

Perhaps it's within the new entrance to New Street, er, sorry, Birmingham Central, station? 

Nope, not in here either.

But what came first?

We've found the Food Festival in Victoria Square so we must be getting warm (and weary after a two mile wander in 27 degrees only made tolerable by two stops at various tea rooms along the way).

Yay! Here it is! Well, part of it. 

A bloke from Liverpool on the ukulele and another bloke of indeterminate accent on acoustic and vocals. 

Perhaps it'll really get going later on?

Note audience more interested in the antics of the chicken and the egg.

It's five-thirty and time to go home, via the weekly shop in Droitwich, to lounge around in our living room in the stifling humidity of that 'delightful' rarity: a British Summer. 

We think we've still got a fan somewhere. Cowin'-well hope so!

Roll on October.

Evesham Cats Protection, Sunday, 7th July, 2013.

You're off out where? Evesham Cats Protection?? Nah, sorry, never heard of it. Make sure yer back for me lunch at 1:30 prompt and shut the door on the way out.

It's too cowin' hot Vic. 25 degrees and still not ten o'clock. Can't we go home a bit early?

Nope.

Mickey is hot an' all. He needs a bigger shelf to stretch out on.

Donnie.........

.........and Marie. Still here? What on earth is the matter with the world?

Tillie-Marie and Merton, her Tillie-Marie mini-me. 

Tillie-Marie was chosen by a new family this morning and will be re-homed in a couple of weeks time, which is good.

All washed up and drying in the scorching sun. It must be 28 degrees now.

Well-earned final cuppa of the morning before Lucy comes in at 12:15 and, after a catch-up, we can go home to watch Andy Murray against that dastardly dirty-cheatin' Novak-fella. 

We all agree, Andy won't win. Lose in four sets. Bound to. 

Ah well.

Worcestershire CCC v Australia (Day 3), New Road, Thursday 4th July, 2013.

Emlyn watches us leave from a nice sunny spot in the living room. 

Promise me the sun won't move from here.

Two dead 'ard Aussie-fellas in matching comedy sun glasses. They're prescription, 'cos they are.

After a bit of jiggery-pokery we have secured a nice spot under the scoreboard. Not for the scoreboard but for the crucial adjacency to the Tea and Cake Pavilion.

Catch it! Oh bugger.

It's now mid-afternoon and it's that time. Vicky takes her place in the queue for the tea and cake at the Tea and Cake Pavilion.

Meanwhile, the Aussies continue to smash the ball over the boundary with alacrity. Grrrrrr.

Splendid action shot of Vicky returning with the tea and cake.

Washing down the lemon drizzle cake.

David scoffing huge slice of juicy bread pudding, thankfully, well out of shot.

Howard celebrates the long overdue fall of an Aussie wicket (note to David: make sure you clean Howard's fur when doing the housework next week).

Despite the ongoing construction of a Premier Inn, New Road is still the most evocative venue to be watching a game of cricket on a lovely warm, nay hot, summer's day.

Out middle stump! Oh ok, it's an illusion. The Aussie-fella is smashing it away for another 4.

They declared not long after this for 3,582 runs or something equally outrageous and, as it was gone five and we were suffering with the dreaded hayfever, we decided to wander back home along the river.

Like we say, you can't beat a spot of cricket down New Road.