Every window and door in the house is open as I type this. Is it hot with you? I got very red in the face digging up the last of my new potatoes at the allotment. There were rumours of blight circulating the site – it spreads so easily amongst the tightly packed plots – but I seem to have got away with it, and I have no main crop to worry about.
My little car is like a sitting in a roasting tin as I do my rounds at work. Alongside the ‘Heat Wave Contingency Plan’, a chart was circulated Trust-wide so that staff could monitor the temperature of wards and offices. Funnily enough, there was no mention in the plan of monitoring District Nurses car temperatures. The one bit of silver lining was that I didn’t have to hunt for a loo at all over the weekend.
Term is drawing to an end here in Devon. There were plans for a Summer Fayre, which were postponed, and then eventually scrapped. The year 6’s residential took place in tents on the playing field. Sports Days were scheduled, then re-scheduled, then re-scheduled again when children in bubbles had to isolate. I was put in charge of the teacher’s end-of-year collection for Finch’s class, dropping off the present this morning. Mr. B. probably shouldn’t drink it all at once, though he may be tempted after the disrupted year we’ve had. Hats off to you teachers. I don’t know how you do it.
