Please excuse my face – not normally what I say when I meet people, but it has been for the last couple of days.
It would seem the ten minutes of sun we have had this year decided to target its rays on me and as a result I have been doing a rather good impression of a tomato ever since.
After being all at sea last week with the floods, I wanted to make the most of being out of the house and spent a great weekend on the beach, eating ice-creams and trying to prevent my partner from mowing down swans on a pedalo.
It was warm but windy – meaning sunburn risk was high so I played it safe, following what the lotion bottles tell you and keeping out of the sun as much as I could between 11am-3pm.
But clearly it wasn’t enough as a tiny siesta on the shingle was all it took to transform my face from ghostly-white to something which could easily stop traffic.
What makes it most frustrating is I’m normally so careful, too.
In fact I am so careful my sun cream is factor 50 and designed for kids – it even goes on blue to make sure you rub it in. I shade-bathe, not sun-bathe. And wearing a sun hat and kaftan if I do venture out means I am often more covered in summer than other months of the year.
As a result, thankfully, getting caught by the sun is a rare occurrence. Which is just as well as I am a peeler, not a tanner.
Hopefully I will be back to my porcelain complexion soon.
In the meantime I am putting on a brave, albeit rather rosy face, and have been pleasantly surprised how polite most people are. They either don’t mention it or kindly ask if I’ve been anywhere nice.
Of course close friends have just laughed and told me I have ‘brightened their day’ which I am sure is a deliberate wording.