HEATWAVE TO HELL

‘I’m on the heatwave to hell’ sing AC/DC on their newly released climate change remastered single specially adapted for this year’s sweltering summer.

You’d think that having all the retirement time in the world, I’d be rejoicing at summer sunshine and the opportunity to bronze my bulges on a pebbly West Sussex beach somewhere. Wrong! This never-ending heatwave is slowly becoming my idea of a living humid hell. It’s playing havoc with my joints!

Since sizzling started, going outside during the hours of 10 am and 4 pm is banned. Instead, I’ve taken to prancing around a darkened house in little more than my undies quaffing gallons of chilled water and wondering what would happen if I filled both bra cups with ice cubes. Anyone tried it?

Bertie's idea of keeping cool 

I’ve become the early bird who doesn’t like warm worms. My appointments have all been re-scheduled to crack of dawn slots including visits to the local sports centre. Midday pilates classes replaced with 7.30 am swim sessions instead because anything that requires clothing or the remotest bit of sweat-inducing effort has been sent swiftly to the back of the line. Days are long, languid and lazy.

Keeping out the heat

It’s now gotten to the point where I can no longer bear to look out of the windows at blue cloudless skies because they only make me think of the lack of rain that we’ve been forced to endure for what seems an eternity. Curtains remain firmly drawn until late afternoon when the sun’s moved round to the other side of the house throwing much appreciated shade onto the patio. Only then do I peer outside but not for long.

It’s at times like these I’m thankful I don’t have to go to work. Can’t imagine what hellish conditions some peeps are having to endure to earn their daily bread especially those stuck behind an array of heat-pumping PCs or other heat emitting devices. My heart and thoughts are with you sweaty buggers.

No hope for this one

My poor garden. Every scorcher that passes leaves a greater trail of brittle browned foliage. Half the plants in the back borders are surviving on a wing and a prayer as having a water meter means only an occasional sprinkle every 3-4 days. Autumn can’t come soon enough although ironically, it’ll be just our luck that 2026 will bring one of those late Indian summers thus extending this purgatory for a few more weeks.

Hydrangea on the endangered list

It’s looking like an almighty shovel job will be on the agenda once temperatures begin to cool down. There’s a ton of dead plants to dig up, a number on the critically endangered list to nurture back to life and a lawn I’ve named Lazarus as it’ll need a miraculous resurrection from death to restore it to its verdant glory.

Needs a miracle and a biblical deluge

If this is what the future’s all about then I may as well order the cement mixer right now to concrete it all over as I can’t bear to see everything I worked so hard to create in the garden dying before my very eyes.

Lavender one, veggies nil. This year’s gardening premier league is in dire straits particularly on the vegetable front. Mangetout shrivelled to a crisp, dwarf beans (second lot germinated) scoffed by whatever slugs weren’t desiccated and tomatoes struggling to produce any meaningful goals. The only things unaffected by tropical sunshine are rhubarb (indestructible), leeks (weedy but growing) and the carrots (small, leggy but delicious).

Look weird but taste bloody lovely

Tomatoes hardly worth the bother

It’s been a bumper year for lavender bushes and I’ve harvested every single flower to make lovely smelling lavender bags for my cupboards. You can buy small empty bags from Amazon or Ebay. I’ve got these dotted around the house, hanging from windows, in cupboards, drawers and in the car. Smells proper old lady in here but cheaper than Febreze. I guess I should be thankful that some plants have been spared in the climate carnage.

It's been a great year for lavender

Use your dried lavender to make these

Of course you can’t eat lavender (can you?) so no doubt most of us green fingered, scantily clad gardeners will be having a serious rethink of how best to refill the borders using plants better adapted for temperature extremes – wet, soggy winters followed by long periods of hot, dry summers. Surely there’s gotta be plants out there that fit the bill?

And if I’m struggling to grow greens then spare a thought for farmers. For some of us, summer is a bummer. Be prepared for rampant food inflation as scarcity of crops, more imports from abroad, higher energy costs and a continuing war in the Middle East are going to heap more into our begging bowls than our tiny Wegovy shrunk bellies can cope with.

Ooooh!  Those ice cubes feel gorgeous!!

THE EYES HAVE IT

All eyes are on the sky as tonight we’re being treated to one of those rare astronomical occurrences – a solar eclipse or partial eclipse for those of us stuck in Blighty, sweltering in temperatures generally enjoyed by pigs in blankets in a hot oven.

Heatwave humour by Patrick Chappate - how true!!

Everyone has an eclipse story to tell – in the same way that everyone remembers what they were doing the day Prince Charles and Lady Di got married. I was mackerel fishing with the Ancient Mariner at Kimmeridge Bay as it was another gloriously hot day and the nation had miraculously been given a day off work. Too good an opportunity to pass up when the oracle of the oceans had foretold that fish would be biting.

Remember 1999? I was working in Dorchester at the time and saw the last eclipse from the staff car park just outside my office. Suited and booted, wearing my special ‘sun’ specs, honestly there was not a lot to be seen as the sun was obscured behind a blanket of thick, grey cloud. Daylight dimmed, there was a deathly hush – not even traffic could be heard. On that day, the earth truly stood still. Along with most of the UK’s workforce.

A blast from the past

I kept my special eclipse glasses as a souvenir and have dug them out again in readiness for tonight as it’s important to protect your peepers above all else. And in a roundabout way, this is what’s influenced this post – eye tests.

Eclipse glasses - knew they'd come in handy

Should have gone to Specsavers. Well, I did. And today I learnt something new. Something which VDU workers often take for granted as most keyboard warriors normally get eye tests paid for by their employers. Something that I didn’t think applied to those over 60 years of age but apparently it does and it is this: not everyone is entitled to get their eye’s tested on a yearly basis and for free.

Routine eye tests are generally recommended by the NHS every two years according to Specsavers although the NHS website fails to mention this timeframe. Your optician can designate you as a customer requiring an annual check-up if you meet specific criteria but for the majority, you only need a test every 24 months.

So, here’s the kicker. If you ask an optician to do an eye test within that 24-month period and there HAS NOT been a significant change to your visual prescription then you will be charged for a private sight test. Which costs around £30 in Specsavers. This charge applies even if you are over 60. Did you know this? It certainly was news to me.

Being a bespectacled basher of keyboards, I’ve noticed a marked deterioration in eyesight since my last eye test in May 2025. Not only am I as mad as a box of frogs but now it seems, I’m as blind as a bat too!

You know things are getting bad when you can’t read the menu at the ‘Spoons without contorting your face into a squinty gurn. I’m acutely conscious of the fact that when I do this, other punters are probably sipping their pints thinking she’s a special window licker to be sure. Menus, food labels, prescription packs, fortune cookies – it’s all become a treacly morass of unreadable small print.

Of course, no-one voluntarily goes to the optician without just cause. Every time I’ve stepped across their threshold, I’ve kissed goodbye to around £300 as there’s always a million reasons why I’ve got to renew my varifocals. If only I’d had both eyes lasered when younger, I’d have saved a small fortune on spectacles.

But here I am, shelling out for a pair of Mr Magoo reading glasses with lenses thicker than a bottle of Guinness that will no doubt languish in the bottom of my handbag for the next two years or until a guide dog is needed.

‘Cataracts. They’re developing’ chirped Specky Four Eyes as he diligently peered into each eye with his Maglite leaving me blinded and thinking of a past trip to Niagara Falls. Developing? Oh Lord. What exactly does that mean?

I would have liked to have wiped the grin off his face with a few pithy rejoinders but it’s way too hot for any of that plus I’ve got an eclipse to prepare for before my own personal daylight gets clouded over by cataracts.

WHY AI?

I’ve discovered a new entertaining online hobby which is proving to be quite addictive. I’ve called it Why AI?

There’s been a lot of media coverage about artificial intelligence and the impact it will have on our lives so I’ve decided to put Dr Google’s AI brain through its paces by asking it lots of random questions to see exactly what it comes back with. It’s like asking Deep Thought for the answer to life, the universe and everything. Of course, I did. Guess what AI answered? Yep, 42. Hilarious!

Funny, I expected a more philosophically profound answer ...

Why AI? is the most fun you can have by yourself. Bored? Lonely? Got no friends? You’re never alone with AI. Ask it a question, it’s got the answer to everything unlike some of your real mates whose brain cells prefer to focus on who’s made it to the final of some awfully banal reality TV show instead of cogitating on those profoundly deep matters such as the existence of God. According to AI, there’s no single, universally accepted answer to that question which is great because you can then continue to discuss the topic for another millennia or two.

Interestingly, AI appears to have little concept of time. I asked my new techo-buddy when it thought the sun would die. It replied in 5 billion years’ time so I asked it if that was 5 billion years from today or a previous point in time. It said today. Hmmmm. I don’t think so, matey because I’ve previously googled that question in the past and the answer was 5 billion years back then. How can the answer still be 5 billion years if several years or decades have passed?

Continuing the theme of planetary destruction, I then went on to ask who would be saved if the world was actually to end. Oh boy, it’s definitely a scenario straight out of that movie ‘2012’. I’ve summarised AI’s lengthy answer into the 4 broad headings just to give you a flavour but essentially if the world ends then we’re all f****d.

According to Google AI, this is the likely pecking order for salvation:

 1) The Wealthy & Powerful Elite

        2) Government & Military

               3) Science & Genetic Preservation

                      4) The rest of us

Survival, as was expected, is largely going to depend on money and power. Those with all the cash or those controlling any resources necessary for a continued existence. Basically, if you have nothing to bring to the party then kiss your arse goodbye because your name is not going to be on any guest list anytime soon. Anyone in this top bucket has no doubt been preparing for the end of days for decades rather than just leaving it up to chance such as those in Bucket 2 are likely to do.

Next up on the Guess-who-gets-saved-list is of course, the politicos and the forces because someone has to try to maintain law and order even though there might be no unruly masses to control or a planet to govern. I guess someone has to guard the cupboard containing all the loo roll which would have to be strictly rationed to one sheet per person even on a spaceship or underground bunker.

Naturally, after any kind of disaster, humankind would want to get back to some kind of ‘normality’ because as a species we cling onto enduring habits such as going to the pub every Friday lunchtime. Hello scientists. We’re all relying on you to re-engineer our lives into an exact replica of the one we just left rather than use the opportunity to build a better world. Let’s face it, no-one likes change even after a planetary disaster has taken place.

Young people – prepare to have sex. Lots of it. There’s no room for squeamishness or celibacy when building a new civilisation from scratch. Survival of the species, you know. Time for you to throw all those neuroses and your underwear to the wind for a bonk-busting return to free love. Babies. Babies. Babies. Those in the top 2 buckets need suckers to fleece and tax so lube up.

And finally, we get to that last category which AI called ‘The Reality of the Majority’ – the plight of billions of people who unfortunately don’t fall into any of the previous buckets. Us plebs. We may vastly outnumber those in the other buckets but to them we’re just collateral damage. A sacrifice for the greater good of humanity has to be made. We’re it.

Weirdly, I’m not even remotely upset by any part of AI’s answer to my original question because if the world did end, who’d want to live in a society full of rich, entitled capitalist or political arseholes? I’d rather take my chances with the meteorite or whatever comes my way.

Why AI? If you’re at a loose end why not give it a go? Think of the most random question to ask then see where the answers might take you. Honestly, you’ll be hooked once you get started because as I’ve discovered, one question always leads to another.

POINT IN QUESTION

Ask a variety of people the same question, receive different answers.

Naturally, this is not really the ideal scenario when trying to make a sound decision but it’s par for the course if dealing with trades. Every person has their own idea of what you should do and generally they don’t coincide with what you might have had in mind. But thanks for your input. Thank God it costs nothing to get quotes.

Half and half. I’ll get the top half of the house covered in some nice cladding but leave the other half of the wall with its original brickwork. Re-pointed brickwork. That should do the trick.

Remember – the point of it all is to get rid of those awful cracks/holes in the brickwork I tell myself as I blanche at a selection of quotes for re-pointing work. £1,700 – crikey, that seems like a large chunk of cash to part with just for a bit of new mortar.

Only it’s not just a case of slapping a bit of muck in the joints, is it? Re-pointing brickwork looks like your worst builders’ nightmare. Time consuming, dusty, back-breaking work. I certainly wouldn’t want to be doing it.

For starters, before you can even magic up a trug of cement, every single bit of old mortar has to be chiselled out. I saw my builder using a super-sized tool requiring the power of Grayskull to wield it in order to rake out each and every mortar filled channel. That VAT discount won’t even begin to touch the sides of my next electricity bill after this little lot. I shut my eyes and try not to think about meter readings.

Every inch of garden fencing and greenery is covered in fine dust. My alleyway looks like it’s been hit by a sandstorm. I’m surprised my neighbours haven’t beaten a path to my front door to complain about the noise or dust-coated laundry on their washing lines. Best to keep my head down for now.

It’s taken 3 dudes, a scaffolding tower and the best part of a week’s work to clear all the holey mortar then re-point every single joint. And that’s just for half a wall!

Lovely bit of re-pointing work

A grand job done. All joints finished off very neatly. Looks a hundred times better than it did before.

Well, that’s the first part of Project Side Wall Tart Up completed. 

Wall Project Part II – replacement of asbestos soil stack coming to a screen near you soonish.