
Meltdown
British summers are supposed to be mild. Instead I've spent the week melting on a leather sofa, questioning nursery closures, and wondering why my TV room feels like the Sahara. The answer, as usual, involved the OddSon.

British summers are supposed to be mild. Instead I've spent the week melting on a leather sofa, questioning nursery closures, and wondering why my TV room feels like the Sahara. The answer, as usual, involved the OddSon.