It’s too hot... hurray, now I have something else to be grumpy about

I realise that moaning about the weather is a special gift of the British but, my word, it’s been hot.

I’ve only had the thermals off since late April and already I’m having to smother myself in insect repellent and Factor 50 sun cream. I don’t tan, I blotch.

What’s more, last year’s knee problem has flared up again.

You may recall that last August I was bitten on the knee by what was probably a spider, at Thorpeness. A little bit of geographical exactitude never goes amiss. Over the next few months, the knee itched, produced a dot-to-dot of little blisters, swelled up, got infected, was treated by antibiotics. This, of course was my good right knee not my titanium left knee. Eventually the redness abated but it occasionally flares up and takes on a colour I can’t really describe - it is probably nearest to Farrow and Ball’s dead salmon.

My Mafia hat (I got it in Sicily in 2012) is looking a bit battered but I ram it on my head so only my nose gets the sun... my nose sticks out beyond the brim. I am taking all the advice about keeping cool when you’re older. I mostly stay indoors in the heat of the day but if I do venture out, I keep to the shade, if there is any. I have been obsessively crossing the street to find shadow... I am more likely to get run over than suffer heat stroke.

In a worrying drain on our reservoirs, I have been drinking a lot of water. This, of course means getting up in the night to go to the loo... but it’s not a problem because I haven’t been sleeping in this heat.

I am wearing my cotton pyjamas but every time I turn over, the bottoms swivel round and cut off the blood supply to my legs. I try not to move on as this will be the coolest option... but then the pillow gets hot and I have to turn it over.

We do have a fan but we only use it in extremis because, while we are cooler, it makes so much noise we can’t get to sleep and neither of us wants to get up and turn it off. And so I suffer – but not in silence.

My husband seems to be peacefully asleep beside me. I’ll soon put a stop to that.

“Are you awake?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m awake. Are you?”

“I am now.”

And so the hot night wears on and I finally drop off halfway through the dawn chorus and rise at eight, not much rested and a bit grumpier than usual. Then I have a whole day to feel hot in - see that? A trailing preposition and I don’t care.

We are, I’m told, supposed to sweat because that’s how our bodies cool. Some people I walk past in the street seem to have taken this to extremes. Meanwhile, one of the most dangerous things you can do in this weather is sit on an unprotected leather car seat. I nearly barbecued myself on the passenger seat of my friend’s Audi.

Things also took an unexpected turn in Sheringham, last Monday, where I was privileged to meet the town’s Lacemakers on their Pearl Anniversary. That’s 30 years of the most exquisite lace work.

Before this, my husband and I had lunch with our dear friend of more than 40 years, Sue, who has a flat overlooking the sea. She has furnished it with a number of fairground and pier amusements, one of which, on receipt of 2p, has a dial showing personality traits, and where the pointer ends, that’s yours.

After divulging the information that her window-cleaner was “passionate”, I had a go. I am “yearning”. As for my husband? He is “indifferent”. It looks as if I shall be yearning for a while yet.

• I received a very tempting offer via email last week.

It was headed “Confidential Proposal” and continued: “I am Barrister Greg Barnes (Esq) , I am the Personal Attorney to a well-respected Ex-President From Africa and now based in UK here, He want to invest in a huge projects Like, Hotels, real estate, Manufacturing, Import and Export Particularly, he has ordered his Bank to provide adequate support immediately.

I am looking for a Man with Business experience and qualified to handle fund in large tones like $15.8 Billion Dollars and invest it wisely... please contact me if you are in the best position to handle this project...”

Barrister Greg Barns then asks me to provide my full name, postal address, telephone/ fax number, occupation and sex, marital status and (crucially, I suspect) a copy of my passport or ID card.

I think I am in a position to deal with this and I have duly pressed the delete button and moved on with my life. Sorry Greg (not your real name, I imagine) no one uses a capital on random words like Particularly and Man. If you immediately send me your details, I will pass them on to the police together and send you a booklet on the Use of English for Obvious Scams.