Although I am old enough to remember that scorching summer of 1976 (and that ladybird infestation) I have no memory of a school closure. However, this teacher was really grateful when our school made the decision to limp into the shade for a couple of days this week and take a hydration break.

Read on loyal reader because for once this blog is not about me . While I am languishing and reminding myself how to work from home – and how to keep my one tomato plant alive, Himself is audaciously pressing on and marking his retirement with a three day cycle ride to Belgium for the British Legion. Ironically, being at home means I have too much time to keep an eye on Himself’s location tracker which is not good for an over thinker like myself – and for someone who has no idea how fast a cyclist can travel in this heat. Thank goodness this blog is not about me (darn).

I know better than to offer advice to Himself – especially about cycling (or retirement) – but secretly I wonder if the event organisers will cancel. I air this thought quite nonchalantly, ‘Out of curiosity, in the history of this event, has there ever been a cancellation because of a heatwave?’ . Himself eye rolls and notes that most of the riders – like himself – are x military and that in the forces the weather is always the enemy; rufty tufty folk learn how to deal with rain or shine. It is all about the planning, apparently.

I am relieved to hear that my very specific order for dark Belgian chocolate (no soft centres) is not at risk.

Not only is Himself a thoroughly lovely chap, but he has been planning his retirement for a very long time. Not in one of those yawny retirement bore ways (i.e. Question: ‘did I tell you that I am retiring?’ Answer: ‘Yes, repeatedly and at every opportunity’), but in a way that will ensure he refires on to his next chapter adventurously . He has been training both for the miles and to prep the head space that he can now use fully for his writing/tending my tomato plant.

This impressive refirement planning has factored in some equally impressive carb loading (pizza) and regular sports massage (none of us are getting any younger after all). His coup de grace is getting paid for his last few days at work by entering an event that his employers are sponsoring and that some of his favourite colleagues have entered. He has no time for goodbyes but he has plenty of time for bike chat and Strava stats. He is smiling as he posts his ‘out of office’ for the very last time, knowing that he still has two days to ‘work’.

Even better still is that Himself persuades his son to join this event. Naturally Himself has spawned a son who is thoroughly lovely, and oh, just happens to be a cycling coach; he is totally up for ensuring his dad retires on hot wheels. The heatwave alone would deter lesser men, but Himself’s son rises phoenix-like from the ashes (stick with the heat metaphor) after an impromptu hospital visit at the start of the week. Again I enquire nonchalantly, ‘ will your son get a medical pass? ‘, and Himself notes that stoicism is a family trait and that beer and pizza – possibly chocolate – are on offer, so it is not time to worry.

Himself’s official last day at work passes in a frenzy of stashing expensive bikes into a van and ensuring that they have enough cool boxes to house the water they will inevitably need. Himself seems taken aback to be given a card signed by so many colleagues and to be gifted with something in addition to this cycling adventure. He is relieved not to receive a carriage clock. He assures me that his peloton has agreed that there will be no heroics…and that they will be setting off at 4am on Thursday morning to miss the worst of the rays. Additional hydration breaks have been factored in and the crew seem relieved that melting tarmac may smooth over any worry about potential potholes.

I am reassured, but still a little concerned about my detailed chocolate order crossing the border.

Like me, I know that you will be relieved to hear that all the cyclists completed the even – over 260 miles in hideous smelly lycra sorry, heat. Apparently mad dogs and cyclists do go out in the midday sun. Himself is justifiably emotional – so many miles, war cemeteries and the Last Post Ceremony at the Menin Gate can do that to the most rufty tufty of folk. He calls to say that he is burnt to a cinder, his legs may no longer support him but – when his son stops hogging the shower – they are off for a farewell pizza and he will rise to the challenge.

At the risk of sounding emotional myself, I can not help thinking, ‘way to go,’ you lovely human. This chap truly is a ‘Can Do’ phoenix that would rise up from any pile of ashes. Once his limbs start working again, I know that he will throw himself into his next chapter – and probably his next cycle ride – with enviable energy. So pleased that Himself got to retire with the most lovely people – especially his son – doing what he loves best and honouring those who can no longer be with us. He is allowed to be emotional. This has taken some planning.

Anyway, if he does have the energy to read this, Himself will be feeling uncomfortable by this amount of attention, so let us switch back to me. Reader, my chocolate order has not been fulfilled! No flipping Belgian chocolate is returning with the peloton! This is a pothole we have not planned for. There was me thinking the event had been a success. As Himself rushes to leave the hotel and return to Blighty, he calls to say that it is so hot that the shops have all decided to close and that the coach is leaving early from Ypres to avoid more ‘weather’.

How on earth is this teacher to return to the classroom without essential military rations? I fear my tomato harvest may not provide me with sufficient sustenance to see me through the week ahead. I feel burnt. I may need to retire earlier than I intended. I have not planned for this.