It’s hot. I’m not complaining. No, not at all. It would be rather hypocritical of me to do so, especially after I moaned about the winter we had, which seemed to drag on forever. It is quite warm though, isn’t it?

This weekend has been spent primarily in my flat, wandering around in nothing more than my Leeds United shorts, drinking copious amounts of water, watching the excellent Ashes series, stopping only to piss out the water I have consumed by the gallon.

Nights aren’t much better. Due to a family of foxes which live nearby, I cannot sleep with the windows open. Doing so causes me to be awoken at 3am to their loud shrieks and screams. Regular readers of my blog will know that while I am against fox hunting as a sport, I am currently lobbying it to be brought back, but instead of in the countryside, onto the streets of Bath. As well as killing the foxes; the hunters, hounds and horses will be permitted to kill/maim other unsociable creatures such as seagulls and the charity-muggers which plague the streets.

Until my request to bring back hunting reaches the House of Commons I guess I am left with two choices – sleep with the window open, and suffer sleep deprivation thanks to noisy foxes – or sleep with the window closed, and suffer sleep deprivation thanks to lying in what is basically an oven, hot enough to cook a Christmas turkey.

Like I said, I’m not complaining.