It is the holidays and so you now have plenty of time to do the stuff that you have been putting on hold for the past few months - right? Wrong. It all boils down to organisation and time management, of course, and you are as about as orderly as a er, not very orderly thing.

Last week, however, I surpassed myself with my display of common sense and foresight. When it was time to turn the clocks forward last Sunday, I did not have to do anything because I had simply refused to put my clock back from last time. Oh yes, it was a stroke of genius I admit, but I just thought to myself, what goes forward, must go backward and that was that.

Of course, having my clock one hour ahead in the winter was a tiny bit of a problem especially as I had been getting up at four o'clock in the mornings a few times and been totally confused, but at least I didn't have to fiddle with the thing.

And it was Eid last week too, which caused more confusion. Not because we didn't know what day it was supposed to be on (cos folks, we never know what day it's supposed to be on and half the street celebrate on one day, and half on the other so a feeling of togetherness is kind of missed.) But oh horrors, I had one less hour to make the samosas!

Some people missed Eid prayers too as they got out of bed at eight and realised that it was really nine. The whole day went a bit haywire after that. With one less hour we had to do lots and lots of cooking, cleaning and other stuff and by the time we got ready into our fine new glitzy clothes, we were so tired we fell asleep in them.

The weather has been better at least. But what annoys me about the spring is that you hear from somewhere (a most unreliable source like your little brother, for instance) that this year there is going to be a heat wave. So you wait and you wait and you wait.

Finally the weather people start going on about how hot the week is gong to be. You stock up on sun block (you want to look pale and interesting - well, at least interesting) and sun hats for the kiddies and lollies and lemonade and plan a trip to the sea-side.

You sterilise the manky old ice cube-makers after fining them rattling around a cupboard. You dig out the garden furniture which has been put somewhere round the house for safe keeping and now probably accommodates a plastic table cloth, a few pot plants and several volumes of the Reader's Digest. And then you wait. And you wait. And er, you wait.

The weather is all right but not spectacular. You still have to wear a cardigan and the heating is still on and though your little one has been desperately waiting to put on his shorts and T-shirt, you send him out in woolly trousers and a balaclava.

To make matters worse, that evening the weather person sticks huge big smiley suns all over London and goes on about how it has been the hottest day in the capital since 1906. Heat wave, my foot. Well, I suppose, at least it gets your blood boiling .

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.