The weather is milder. The heat is being turned down, like a radiator switching off at the end of the day.

Yesterday, I was back in Fulham, in our little house near the Hurlingham Club. The children are both in residence, so it is nice to touch base.

I went to Parsons Green for lunch at Cote Brasserie with The Hon., which signifies that her father was titled. She is charming, clever and funny, so it was fun to catch up with her summer news. She had been to Scotland for large chunks of it, and she was telling me how, with the glorious weather lately, her party were able to picnic in the great outdoors. The Queen, apparently, when she is at Balmoral, adores to get Philip barbequing, and they eat with plastic utensils. Hard to believe, I know. Surely the butler brings the polished silver.

Last weekend, Anna had three of her St Catharine’s College friends, from Cambridge days, to stay at the Old Rectory. On Saturday, the weather was glorious, and they frolicked around like little lambs in the sunshine, enthusiastically moving from one activity to the other and eating outdoors.

On Sunday, however, the weather imploded, and they were forced to walk in the rain. They had been handed out ‘rain covers’ at the underground, covered in McDonald’s Big Macs.

I love Big Macs, and if I am the mood, I will order one at the drive through at Wandsworth Bridge roundabout, just like I did in Sydney. It reminds me of the diner in Happy Days, a hit TV series exported from America when I was twelve. Portraying perfect people, living the American dream. And hamburgers and shakes were a big part of that dream. I now realise that it was the foreshadowing of product placement marketing in screen productions. Think of all those Starbucks takeaway coffees we see in films.

Off the four of them went, like troopers, to walk in the rain, clad in hamburgers. They still managed to look stylish. The advantage of youth. As a foursome, they represent major aspects of Great Britain: one is Scottish with reddish hair, one is Irish with dark hair, one is from Yorkshire with blonde hair and Anna, well she is a mixed blend of Aussie and English.

When the Brexit vote was looming, I drove through Nyewood on the way to the South Downs. It has a summer festival. The residents make scarecrows and place them in their front gardens. There is one house that I have always admired, as it was obviously a nondescript bungalow once, but the inhabitants have cleverly clad it in clapboard, so that it looks like a New England style.

Their scarecrow gave away that they were Aussies. It was holding tell tale signage. They were obviously pro-European. One sign was pointing to Bognor if the country remained IN Europe. The other was a sign to Bondi Beach if the vote was for OUT. I wonder if they have sold the house by now.

Today, I am having brunch with two Aussie friends in Chelsea, before one heads home for a stint. Like many Aussies, they are land locked here due to work commitments. I wonder if they dream of the surf like me?

Tonight we are going with Hurlingham friends to the Curzon cinema in Chelsea to watch, live from the theatre, The Deep Blue Sea. Everyone takes a picnic to eat at interval. It is the new thing. If you can’t get a ticket to the theatre, you go to the cinema and watch it on film in real time. No possibility of product placement marketing on these occasions.