When it’s too hot to go outside, find refuge in a cool indoors with a book and quiet jazz (Stan Getz, the music of the month) and an elastic clock, because time stretches away forever like this. My mind does little hops and beats as it journeys its way through a new book (well, three new books). There is a newfound delight on each page. This Saturday I realised again that the best adventures are had when you’re just sitting quietly, unmoving, your head in a book. But I also get restless so on Sunday I felt I must get up and move. I discovered a new workout for myself, oh the best kind: dancing, moving, hopping from one foot to another in my underwear to the tunes on my stereo but, more than that, also to the rhythm of my own beat. In between that, all my favourite step and combat moves, just this time without the pressure of a clas situation or any potential damage on the knees. Free flow, dance, move whichever way I feel like. In between, punch the air, knee-lifts, vertical ab crunches. All along – feeling the sexiest me as I whoop and shake and wiggle like no one’s watching (since no one is) and thinking, as I catch my reflection in the mirror, “damn, girl, you look mighty fine!” I shall be doing this more often I think.