Andrew Kay: A warm glow

Giving in and going for comfort

I woke up this morning with only one thing on my mind: hot water bottle! I know, a hot water bottle in 2015. What are things coming to? I mean really.

I grew up in Lancashire and given that we had no central heating and just a coal fire in the living room, a hot water bottle was something of a neccessity. My first one was made of stone-ware, yes I am that old, and despite it being wrapped in a flannelette rag every night you could still do serious damage to your feet by stubbing your toes.

Last night I would have stubbed my toes all night long if it had meant that my feet could be warm. I even got out of bed and shook the duvet in the hope that the redistribution of the very expensive eiderdown might have afforded my tootsies some extra comfort – but no, my feet remained ice-like all night through.

Having mentioned my northern roots, one might expect that I have an inbuilt – if not inbred – immunity to the cold. A few weeks ago a friend offered me a lift in their rather smart car. It’s one of those models that does everything. You can programme it to get warm in time for your return should you so wish, it parks itself and no doubt if you study the handbook for long enough it will deal with your utility bills and order your milk. It is, to say the least, an impressive piece of technology.

I was grateful for the lift as it was a cold day and a long walk to the nearest bus stop. As we pulled away, I felt ill at ease. There was a sensation that although familiar to start with, was a feeling that I had not experienced for a good many years.

I sat there slightly disarmed and forgive me for what comes next. The sensation was one of warmth. spreading warmth in my nether regions. To be frank it felt like I had wet my pants. I sat in a quiet state of, well, should I say discomfort and embarassment balanced with a pleasant sensation of, for once, being warm.

After a few minutes I realised that at some point I might have to say something – I mean a new car, leather upholstery and incontinence! Not a great combination.

But how do you go about it? I gingerly said how toasty warm the car was. “Ah yes, that will be the heated seat,” came the reply.

I should have guessed I suppose, but not being a car owner these days, the leaps and bounds made in passenger comfort have passed me by, which is I suppose better that me having passed water – in my pants!

Old enough to need a hot water bottle but not old enough for the joy of a bus pass

For many years I believed my northerness would keep me immune from the cold, but of late my hands and feet have been as ice. I have purchased thermal gloves and thermal socks and although they help a little they have not solved the problem. During the day it is bad but at night, well at night it is keeping me from sleep.

Which is why today, as soon as the shops open, I will be heading down to Boots the chemists to buy a hot water bottle. I may even buy a second one to jam under my desk here at Latest Towers. Getting older, yes I’m afraid so – old enough to need a hot water bottle but not old enough for the joy of a bus pass. That hardly seems fair does it?

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