It’s been getting hotter for weeks now, with temperatures of up to 10° warmer than the average for the time of year; it’s very early in the season for a heatwave and every day it seems to be extended further. Last week they said it would last till Sunday, but now it’s forecast to go on till Wednesday, with peaks between now and then, of up to 42°C. I’m not the only person wondering what July and August are going to bring, though I’m looking forward to my trip to Harrogate over the summer holidays, at least it will be cooler there.

The painting club closes for the summer, so Saturday morning was earmarked for the annual clean. The sun was already hot when we arrived at 8.30, as we emptied the room of tables, chairs and easels, putting them as much as possible in the shade of the building for scrubbing;  other people cleaned the windows, the floor and the fridge.

I had band practice in the afternoon; Jean Marc made space in his garage for my car and Adrian’s motorbike, rather than leaving them in the sun. The studio, in his cellar, is usually cool (freezing in winter), but even with two fans running, it felt uncomfortably hot. By the time we packed up at 6.30 pm, hot, sticky and exhausted, even the mixing desk felt hot to the touch.

I woke early on Sunday, it’s not easy to sleep when the temperature doesn’t drop below 22°C overnight, and went for a walk round the lake. It was a blissfully cool 24°C and misty, the lake looking as though it was gently steaming. It wasn’t even 7.30 and there were very few people about; it was so peaceful and tranquil, the only sound that of the birds singing as though their little hearts would burst. Even the geese, busy looking after their babies, were doing so quietly.

By the end of my second lap, the sun was beginning to break through the cloud and besides, I was getting hungry, I’d set off without breakfast, so I headed home.

My heating system also does aircon; however, my eco-conscience doesn’t like me using it, but in spite of my best efforts, the temperature in my apartment is 28°C. I’m just too English to cope and I’m melting, so I have to confess to turning it on occasionally; other coping strategies include going swimming whenever the pool is open, visits to the cinema (I’ve seen “life of Chuck” twice in the last week, in English and in French – still have lots of questions!) and going for a wander around the shops in the big, air-conditioned shopping centre. I don’t like shopping, but at least it’s cool!

Why are events like buses? They never arrive singly, but in groups.

It was always going to be a busy few days; Kieran’s birthday (cake to make), my birthday (cakes for patchwork and painting clubs), the patchwork club exhibition and, to top it all, a gig for the band to play.

On Thursday we started hanging quilts for the patchwork exhibition; it was chaos, with everyone doing their own thing and no overall plan! I gather that Joce, the president, took charge on Friday and by the time I arrived, with a friend, for the vernissage (official opening) in the evening, it looked great.  It was a lovely evening, but as Seignosse is a 40 minute drive and I had a lot to prepare for Saturday, we didn’t stay late.

The gig was Saturday afternoon, the finale of a big fundraising event run by the international women’s group that I’m part of.

9am Saturday, Jean Michel and Jean Marc picked me up in the van, loaded with drum kit, guitars and the sound system. I have to confess to feeling more like 19 than 69 as I waited in the car park, bass guitar slung over my shoulder,  then climbed up to the middle of the three seats in the van.

We arrived at the venue before 10 o’clock and started setting up, till eventually Adrian arrived, he’d had the longest journey, at over two hours; we started doing the sound checks. The women of the club were great, providing coffee at regular intervals, but they were appalled that nobody wanted beer or wine – what sort of rock band were we? A slightly geriatric one, we explained.

Setting up done, we were brought lunch while everyone else went out to play various games, then we took ourselves off into a store room to practice quietly while the rest of the guests ate.

We started playing about 4pm, once lunch was finished; some of the older members of the audience left, but those who stayed were great, clapping along, dancing and cheering and once we’d finished all our own songs, still wanted more. Adrian suggested that we do “knockin’ on heaven’s door”, but invite the audience to join us; about eight people did, so the gig finished with a great atmosphere, full of fun as we all crowded around the two microphones.

While club members cleared up the main room and the kitchen, we dismantled our gear and stowed it in the van, before heading home. For once I was the nearest and was happy to be dropped  off at home and just flop. I thought I’d sleep like the dead, but I think I was still too high as I tossed and turned all night.

Sunday morning I had to be in Seignosse by 10am for the last day of the patchwork exhibition; we had quite a lot of visitors, including several ladies from the women’s club, along with their partners. We received some lovely comments on our work, including from the local delegate of “France Patchwork”, who took photos and is going to write an article for their magazine.

Some of my work is still in my car as I’m doing a craft exhibition on the side of the lake in St Paul on Wednesday, so it didn’t seem worth taking it out.

Until then, though, I think I’m going to do the absolute minimum – I’m flattened! Maybe I’m getting a bit old for all this, but I love it, so have no intention of stopping just yet.

The band has been asked to play a gig in Messanges, one of three this year. Not many, but losing Michel and my replacing the bass player has meant a lot of learning, and we didn’t want to sign up for anything until we felt ready.

Four weeks before, we tested the sound system in Jean Marc’s garage; it worked fine, but would need testing in a bigger space. For all the gigs we’ve played since I joined the band, we’ve had Pascal, a proper sound man, and all his kit. It was great; we turned up, plugged in, tuned up and did a sound check – so easy. But Pascal’s circumstances have changed and he’s no longer doing the same work, meaning that we now have to supply our own kit, which hadn’t been used in years. We’ll also have to manage without a sound man; nobody to balance the sound as we go along. Ade and Jean Michel have pods to provide different guitar effects and have some control over their volume, but we singers have to control our volume by adjusting the distance from the mics, something I still don’t find easy.

Three weeks to go; we booked Jean Marc’s village hall, where  we spent ages setting up, laying what felt like miles of cables and plugging stuff in. I learnt to differentiate between jacks and XLR’s, which cables to use for the mics, the order in which to put stuff out (instruments last);  I’ll do the lightweight jobs and leave the heavy lifting to the lads. As we didn’t have monitor amps, we’d use an in-ear system. Once it was ready, Ade moved sliders and turned knobs on the mixing desk till he was happy with the balance.

Finally we were ready to go, to turn up the volume enough to fill the room; the sound was horrendous! Apparently as bad in the auditorium space as through our in-ear monitors! Neither of us singers could hear ourselves and the instrumental sound was a horrible mush. Adrian tried all sorts, but had to conclude that the speakers were too old and would only work as monitors. We spent another hour packing it all back into Jean Marc’s van and despondently went home.

Jean Michel called Pascal and arranged to borrow his speakers,  we booked the room again for the following weekend; with just two weeks to go, it needed to work. Pascal’s speakers need a different sort of plug, but at last it was ready to try. Adrian worked to get the balance right, so that everyone could hear themselves as well as everyone else. It took a while to get used to it, but I was beginning to feel more comfortable by the end of the practice.

Michel, our ex-lead singer turned up to listen; his tinnitus is bad, so he was wearing earplugs and ear defenders, but it was great to see him again. He took videos of some of the songs on his phone; the sound isn’t great, but there’s one we might be able to put on our YouTube channel.

At last we could rehearse and everyone played really well, even me (I hate being the weakest link). Being in unfamiliar surroundings often throws me, but this time I managed to keep my concentration and Michel said that what he could hear sounded good, which was a great boost for our self confidence. By 6.30pm we were all flagging; it had been full-on since 1pm, so we packed everything back into the van and Adrian and I set off on our journeys home, leaving Jean Michel and Jean Marc to unload into the studio.

By the time I got home, at 8 pm, I was exhausted, but it felt as though we’d made progress. Once this gig is over, we’ll have to look at buying a new sound system, we can’t rely on borrowing from Pascal all the time.

In amongst all the work, I completely forgot to take photos, sorry!