Hurrah! For a wee change, it’s us in the north that have got the weather and we’re not all taking it lying down – unless it’s on a a bit o’ green!

So here’s to every bar and café in town cobbling together a semblance of Ikea furniture on the pavement outside. To all the schools taking lessons into the park and men with their shirts off. Though the women with only shirts on still look to me like they’d forgot to put their trousers on!

Of course in my memory, growing up it seemed every summer was like 1976, full of mirages on melted tar roads and swimming in the reservoir. In those days everyone got burnt, even the dog’s ears.

Who bought sunscreen in the 70s? I thought Coppertone was for cleaning taps!

One of my strongest childhood memories is the feeling of the build-up of heat from a burnt and blistering arm, under a scratchy jumper. Then skin peeling and itching like hell, off to bed having been slathered in Calamine lotion.

My sister just couldn’t stand our winters, so it’s lucky she married a man from Malta.

The first time we went to visit her I remember the locals pointing at me, I now realise in alarm, as I moseyed on down the beach into the sea looking like someone had put a bikini on a milk bottle. They then stared, shaking heads accordingly, as the same bikini emerged from the water, now wrapped around a fried lobster.

It’s the full factor 50 for me now. I’ve now accepted by permanent Peely-wally-ness.

I used to say I couldn’t be bothered with folk who took bad weather personally. That was before we had, for two years in a row, two seasons instead of four: wet and winter.

The worst thing was

no one made plans.

I think in weather like this it should be statutory law that we all get to leave work and head for Troon – we might

not see its like again this year.

It reminds be of watching two wee Glasgow wifey pals on one of those “relocate to the sun” programmes.

They’d upped sticks to Florida. Just before the credits rolled we saw them toast each other and their new abode. Betty said: “Check us, out on our decking”. “I know!” Replied Agnes, “And not only that, it’s turned out nice again.” Agnes! It’ll be turning out nice every day!

My pal’s neighbour was never done talking about how her and her entire extended family had booked a huge villa in Magaluf.

She had folk jumping in hedges and up closes when they saw her coming.

However, when the time came it coincided with that time when Glasgow was in a heatwave and Spain was recording “Moscow-like” temperatures.

My pal bumped into her at the shops, unable to hide the smirk on her face as she inquired: “So, Spain the morra?’ To which her neighbour, fanning herself with a copy of the Evening Times said: “Aye I cannae

wait to get out of this heat.”

As if!

And finally...

You know you’re old when wearing socks with your sandals, and you take a metal detector to the beach.

THIS WEEK’S HIGH FALUTIN’ CONUNDRUM:

Establish by bringing into being, cut and dried fodder during the period concurrent with that of the gaseous body, that is the source of heat and light for the entire solar system, emitting its energy, generated by thermonuclear reactions, whose convective zone transfers said energy, in the direction of our biosphere.

LAST WEEK’S HIGH FALUTIN’ CONUNDRUM:

The precipitous avian vertebrate ensnares the annelid.

Answer: The Early Bird catches the Worm.