Four days of hot weather and any trace of the British spirit of ‘mustn’t grumble’ has definitely melted away. As the papers have been eager to tell us, it hasn’t been this hot since… well, since the last time.
The heatwave sort of broke today, in that whilst people are still displaying parts of themselves in public that would be better covered up, they’re no longer staggering about clutching bottles of water and telling each other that they can’t stand it much longer.
Digging has been interesting this week. Having been reduced to a limp and muddy rag by Monday night despite drinking gallons of water, I spent some time prowling the internet in search of a cure for heat fatigue. I can now reveal that the answer is…
Crisps.
Well actually the answer seems to be Salt, but it tastes better attached to something crunchy.
I wish I’d known that during the rather warm research for Persona Non Grata, the publication of which we’ll be celebrating here at Downie Towers next week. (Using, if this weather continues, a big bag of Ready Salted and a jug of ice cubes.)
A view from the top of the spoil heap. Taking the occasional turn to trundle a wheelbarrow full of mud up to this point is what brings on the need for crisps.
