Sunday was a beautiful day, possibly too hot. Andrew was running in the BUPA Great Wales Run, down the Bay. Regular readers will recall he ran it last year too. Because of his hamstring related lay off this was his first 10K for a while. Picture attached of him just before the start. In spite of his worry about his time, he actually did a very respectable 52 minutes, which he was very pleased with, considering he only started training again in May. Next run is the Swansea Bay 10K - this year will be his 3rd in this race. Although we were only out for a comparatively short time, at a reasonably early time, (race started at 9.30) Andrew found by the evening that he had caught the sun on his arms.

One of the most dispiriting things about the race was parking at County Hall; we then walked round to the start area by the Millennium Centre and I was shocked by the amount of litter, an overflowing bin by County Hall bus stop that had clearly not been emptied since the night/day before, and the bus stop itself was deep in leaf litter, fag butts and detritus - not swept for some time. Irrespective of extra litter caused by the run itself (mainly plastic bottles) this was not good outside the Council's main offices and right by a key tourist area. It also does not bode well for the forthcoming Eisteddfod which will be a major cleaning challenge.

Andrew was in London today, at the Institute of Directors in Pall Mall. As I often do, we got up earlier so I could drop him at the station and then walk the dogs at Hamadryad Park. After almost eleven years of marriage, he's learned that it's best not to engage my brain till a coffee or two has hit the spot. This morning though he posed a wardrobe dilemma. The IoD has a dress code - which struck me as slightly stuffy and old-fashioned these days, but anyway. He didn't want to wear a suit, but also did not want to fall foul of the sartorial police who presumably would eject him if he did not meet their exacting standards. Smart business casual is much harder for men than it is for women - once you get past the classic suit, you need good taste and a bit of thought to get it right. I think it's even harder in summer, for both men and women. Most Brits (myself included) just look hot and miserable when we get our few annual days of sun and humidity, and simply don't have the continental style found in say France, Italy or Spain. I think it's no surprise that one of the best shops for women's smart summer clothes is Zara, which of course is Spanish. Its clothes manage to look good without falling into either the trap of "wedding guest" look or "just wandered off the beach" approach. Anyway, Andrew eventually decided what to wear after a lot of rummaging, though I had reservations about his belt.

Another humid day today - I did a spot of baking and made a coconut cake - it smelled delicious while it was in the oven. Bread also made, and a bolognese for when the young master returned from London. We watched the F word, which was on the Sky box, and GR ate puffins - nooooo! Far too endearing to be eaten. Yes, I know it's soppy and illogical, and if I was a starving Icelandic herringwife, I'd be glad of it, but could you really eat one?