No-one to stab ....

Summer hasn't exactly arrived. There are regular thunderstorms, torrential downpours and tales of flooding in parts of the country. However, according to institutions and travel agents, this is summer, and regular fencing has stopped.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was hot, or even warm. But I'm shivering slightly and huddled up in my club hoodie as I type this. I'd appreciate the opportunity of wearing a plastron and fencing jacket. Those white socks and knee breeches are ever so warm and the mask, once you get used to it, is pretty cosy. And there's nothing like a vigorous bout or two in cold weather.

But what I really miss is not the warmth of fencing but the activity. I want to try to break through someone's defence and make a quick, unexpected hit. I even want to marvel at my opponent's superior skill and puzzle about how to deal with a better, taller, stronger fencer. I miss group footwork practice and the games we play in warm-up. Of course, I also miss the friendship of fellow fencers. Facebook and the club website aren't much of a substitute.

I read on the website that our fencing club may move to another leisure centre - one that I'd find hard to reach by bus or train, esepcially after work. I hope that doesn't happen, though of course it might be best for the club. I've been fencing for nearly three years now. I may not be much good as a fencer but I really enjoy it. These days, it's part of who I am.