HEAT WAVE!

Or maybe not. The thing about living in a place that has sea within a mile’s walk on three sides of it is that our weather is exactly that. So while the rest of the country swelters, we have mist, rain and it’s about eight degrees colder. Tomorrow the heat may get caught in the hills and last for days. Or it might not. If I’m being honest then the best short-term forecast is either to look out of the window or do a cat cast. If there is a very cute cat snuggled up, then you don’t want to be outside. If they’re wet, then you should have got the washing in. If they’re stretched out, it’s hot. If they’re curled up, it’s cold. If they haven’t come in when they’ve been called, then it’s a hot summer’s day or night.

I’ve got weather stations too, and it’s fascinating to see how different the temperature, humidity and forecasts are at the top of the garden and thirty feet further down under the trees. All in all, I’ve decided to make the best of whatever life sends me. So today (Saturday morning) it’s damp, humid, and all my joints hurt, so it is obviously a day to get ahead on my Christmas stories for this Christmas and start thinking of ideas for next year’s summer and winter short stories. I’ve got a glass of cold water next to me with a slice of lemon and a sprig of mint in it because our water comes from an aquifer, which is an underground store of water courtesy of rocks that the rain can come through. We have very hard water, so it’s a pig to clean the kettle, bath, sinks and loos, but it is mineral water and it does taste lovely and it’s good for our health. It’s filtered through a mixture of Triassic Sandstone and Jurassic limestone, which explains the limescale, so you could say I’m drinking dinosaur-flavoured water! That used to delight the children when I was small!

Whatever you’re doing, and whatever the weather, I hope you have the very best time you can, because every day is good for something, and I’m very aware how lucky I am to have it, so I intend to make the most of it.

I’m also very lucky to have this gorgeous pussy cat. Her name’s Catling, and she came to us at a difficult time in all our lives and has been making it better ever since, at least when she’s not worrying me by not coming when she’s called! Her son, the Clown Prince Willow, is the black and white one who's on the table, and he’s a much-loved bringer of chaos. Sometimes, I wonder if I should have called him Loki after the Norse God of mischief, but I’m just grateful to have talked the family out of calling Catling Bastet after the Egyptian cat goddess. I don’t want to think of how many things could go wrong when you called that late at night.