This is a strange time of year in the bedroom. Now, Missus, don’t get too flustered and grab your pearls, I am talking about the heat in there. No, hang on… I mean, the change in temperature generally… The edge of a recent storm brushed by rather disappointingly yesterday, and the temperature dropped to the high 20s, but the humidity was 60%. This means no more toplessness around the house, and no need to put a towel on the sofa to soak up the sweat. No need for the fan in there, either, not with the windows open, but it’s still sandals and t-shirt weather and in the mid-thirties during the day. The nighttime, however… Now that’s complicated.
It’s the time of year when we consider putting on a top sheet, or using a duvet cover without the duvet. The trouble is, after a while, that becomes too warm. So, you put the fan on and try to get back to sleep. Then, it becomes too cold under the fan, so you turn it off. This, in my case, leads to being woken up by sweat trickling down my back, and being woken at the unearthly hour of 22.30, means a trip to the bathroom, and returning to sheets made damp by the effects of my own humidity. (Or the male menopause, or just being generally ‘hot’, and no, Missus, I don’t mean in that way.) So, a towel is the thing to then lie on, and very nice that is too, to start with. Later in the night, it’s a case of waking up cold, but still somehow too humid, and considering a T-shirt, but not bothering because it’s three o’clock, but the pillow is now damply cold or coldly damp, and the fan is no longer on, but that’s okay because it’s cold…
Anyway, enough of overnight fluctuations… Once again, the village square saw a busy afternoon. There are lots of returning visitors here right now, and I must thank everyone for the donations of tea. Not everyone, of course, but everyone who has been kind enough to gift us some supplies for the winter. It tends to be that some things are not available here at that time of year, and decent tea is one of them. (By ‘decent’ I mean tea that has a taste and isn’t just dust swept up from a factory floor and put in a yellow box.) I can’t mention everyone by name in case I forget someone, but a heartfelt thank you goes out to everyone who has arrived with a bag or box of Tetley or Yorkshire, Glengettie or PG, or left one at the bar for me because I’m only there for an hour in the afternoon these days. All are now stored ready for the lean months of winter; those that are not already in use, that is. It’s a warming gesture for the colder months, and I’m very grateful.
And now, to head off into the weekend wondering what to wear at night, how to make up the bed, and looking forward to another cold shower because one thing that still isn’t hot around this house is our dead hot water tank. Hey ho!
