Am sitting here in London, anticipating the next heat wave and thinking deep thoughts about Jane Austen. No, I'm afraid that is a lie. What I’m really thinking about is … air-conditioning, guilt-trip about global warming notwithstanding. Not that I can do anything about swiping air-con as apparently air-conditioning companies here in the U.K. aren’t even offering quotes until around January. They’re all snowed-under (perhaps I mean sunned-out...)
However, my study was originally our house’s garage (the previous owners having cannily erected a brand-new garage at the end of the garden instead, converting the original garage into a study, in which – I kid you not – a famous theologian who progressed from this house to a Cambridge professorship spent years scribbling important tomes about St Paul… Yes! the study in our house has literally gone from the sublime to the ridiculous (from St Paul to Regency escapism, 😊 ).
However, the sun - it was 35 degrees recently (otherwise 95 Fahrenheit) - beats down remorselessly, seven feet/a couple of metres or so above my head. Two fans vaguely stir the air a little but… that's it. And then somebody on social media scoffs that even Austen is nothing but Regency escapism. Well - know what? - that’s ok by me. Spain’s on fire, France is on fire, what’s wrong with a little escapism? Anybody else up for a little Regency escapism? Not even St Paul would quibble with that. | 
