It is always a little melancholy at this time of the year to put aside the summer clothes and get ready for the big freeze, but it has to be done - at least by those of us who have limited storage in the bedroom.

Our bedroom is in the attic, so there is very little wall space and we only have one unit each for our day-to-day clothing, with the rest being kept elsewhere in flatpacks and suitcases. One day, I dream, it will all be in wardrobes. 

The frosts won't be upon us for a while yet, but I doubt we'll be wearing linen again this year, so I've put away all linen, woven cotton, summer dresses and skimpy little tops till next spring. It makes me a little sad, unlike the feeling of unpacking the summer clothes in anticipation of better weather. Now I need snuggly clothes, warm clothes - recent purchases include six pairs of knee-length thermal socks, an ankle-length kagoul and two polar fleece throws for snuggling under on the sofa. 

In a well-planned wardrobe, you get the most mileage from clothing that is largely inter-seasonal. Fabrics such as cotton jersey, brushed cotton, lightweight wools such as merino, thin acrylic knits such as Courtelle, jeans, microfibre fabrics, thin leathers and suedes all fall into this category.

Most of these fabrics will do three seasons and can be worn, layered, in all but very cold or very hot weather, ringing the changes with linen for summer and heavier wools for winter. In contrast, really thick wool knits and really skimpy summer clothes really only have a few weeks wear in them. 

The most useful coat is probably a cotton-weight raincoat with a removable lining. Mine's an old Burberry with a zip-out wool liner that I picked up in a charity shop.  It does three seasons and most of the summer, with only a few weeks when it's really too heavy to wear. These are well worth looking out for second-hand - or new, if your budget stretches to it. 

With the daytime temperatures continuing to romp on, and - more importantly - very high night-time temperatures, the UK Met Office has now declared a Level Three alert for London and the south east. The temperatures are expected to be even higher on Thursday than today.

Level three means that the medical services are automatically on a higher level of standby. 

Measures to take include avoiding unnecessary travel. If you have to go out, try not to go out between 11.00am and 3.00pm. Obviously, this isn't do-able if you're working - my friend T tells me London is currently unbearable - something between an oven and a sauna.

Remember to keep doors and windows closed if the internal temperature is lower than the external temperature. Draw your curtains if they are white or light-coloured (if they're dark, keep them open or you'll only make things worse). 

Watch out for heat exhaustion in these temperatures. Symptoms include:

* headaches

* dizziness

* nausea and vomiting

* muscle weakness or cramps

* pale skin

* high body temperature.

If this happens, move somewhere cool and drink plenty of water or fruit juice. If you can, take a lukewarm shower, or sponge yourself down with cold water.

Be aware that heatstroke can develop if heat exhaustion is left untreated.

The Met Office has raised its heatwave alert for the UK to amber - this means that there is a significant chance that over the next few days, the temperatures will cause significant health risks. Most at risk are the elderly and young babies, but also those with heart and breathing problems, or anyone who is immobile.

If you're not in this position yourself, think of your neighbours who might be and keep a check on them. It does not take very much excess heat for people in these circumstances to get heatstroke - the reason that 15,000 people, mostly elderly, died in France in 2003. Most deaths were not in the searing south, where they are used to dealing with these things, but here in the north, where we're not used to high temperatures. 

Precautions advised by the NHS include:

* Stay tuned to the weather forecast on the TV or radio. If you’re planning to travel, check the forecast at your destination, too. 

* Plan ahead. Stock up with supplies so you don't need to go out during extreme heat. Think about what medicines, food and non-alcoholic drinks you'll need.

* Keep plenty of water to hand and stay in the shade whenever possible.  

* Identify the coolest room in the house, so you can go there to keep cool.

* Avoid going outside between 11am and 3pm as this is the hottest part of the day. Spend time in the shade and avoid strenuous activity.

* Help others. Check up on your neighbours, relatives and friends who may be less able to look after themselves (for example, if they have mobility problems). 

* Drink water or fruit juice regularly. Avoid tea, coffee and alcohol.

* Keep rooms cool by using shade or reflective material external to the glass, or if not possible by closing pale coloured curtains. NB: Metallic blinds and dark curtains can make the room hotter.

* Keep the windows closed while the room is cooler than it is outside. If safe, open windows at night when the air is cooler.

* People with heart problems, breathing difficulties or serious illnesses may find their symptoms become worse in hot weather. Make sure you have enough medicines in stock and take extra care to keep cool.

Managing at Monty

In this house, we are on three floors, including an attic conversion, and the temperature from floor to floor is very different. On the top floor, right now, it is purgatory. Above 28 degrees, we've learned to keep the Velux windows closed, otherwise hot air, heated by the dark slate roof tiles, is drawn in by Venturi effect, making the air even hotter. After nightfall, we go up and open every window wide, allowing cool air to flow through, so sleeping is not a problem - it is only daytime temperatures that are ghastly.

On this floor, where we now have our office, the temperature is middling. I'm sitting here in a strappy dress and it's quite bearable even without a fan. Again, though, the windows are tight shut - it's a lot hotter outside than in. 

On the ground floor, because the walls are stone and the floor is terracotta, it is actually quite cold. We used to draw our curtains shut in summer to keep the heat out, but this is no longer necessary since our green planting has grown up and shades the house quite darkly all summer. Like all the other floors, the doors and windows are only opened at night.

The first summer we spent here, the sun was like an anvil - far hotter than we were used to in Britain - so we quickly planted shade trees and shrubs close to the house. In the South of France, they usually plant plane trees, as these come into leaf late - allowing spring and winter light to enter - then produce huge leaves all summer for a solid canopy that falls quite early in autumn. We have walnuts and sweet chestnuts, which behave in a similar manner (as well as being good croppers). 

Given the more extreme summer temperatures Europe is forecast to experience, next winter might be a good time to think about investing in shade trees or large shrubs if you have a garden big enough. Something deciduous but with large leaves is the best bet: figs, ornamental elders and physocarpus are useful shrubs; virginia creeper, golden hop and grapevines will cover a pergola nicely; while sycamore, maple, plane, sweet chestnut and walnut are all good options for shade trees. 

These are natural, and effectively free, ways to keep cool rather than using fans and air-conditioning, which besides being un-eco-friendly also can't be relied upon if the power fails. 

The day has finally arrived - our heating fuel has just been delivered.

I hadn't considered, when we moved to the country, that one of the problems with being isolated is that you're off all the services. We don't have access to mains gas, and that means you have to work heating and cooking fuel out for yourself. 

The French, being practical people above all else, have deserted their old stone country houses in droves, preferring instead a tiny modern reverse Tardis - far smaller on the inside than the outside - insulated to within an inch of its life. This makes electric heating, which is all nuclear here, a feasible entity. 

Those who remain in these old houses mostly rely on wood, which works out cheaper than all other fuels, provided you're willing to put the work in. A wood-fired 'chaudiere' can fire a whole housefull of radiators, though you have to keep feeding it all day, but many people, like us, only have a woodstove, which is a different beast - a space heater, rather than a central heating system. It heats a room or two admirably, and the upstairs rooms are warmed by the passing flue, but you can't conduct heat from it to other parts of the house unless you buy an 'insert' system, set into a closed chimney.We have a thousand-year-old monumental fireplace, so that option's out as well. 

We survived on our woodburner alone for our first several years in France, but when we had a windfall about seven years ago, we invested in it converting our existing central heating system from bottle gas (impossibly expensive at £35 a day, so never used) to oil. One great advantage of oil is that you buy it up front, as with wood, so you can at least regulate your consumption and not come in for nasty surprises when the bill arrives.

I've always liked this aspect of oil, but who knew the oil situation was going to become so dire so quickly? It's like those days back in the 70s, when - once again - it was the country-dwellers with oil-fired heating who lost out when Opec decided to start playing silly buggers. We invested 5,000 euros in our ultra-efficient oil-fired system, and it will never pay for itself. 

However, from its high back in the summer, finally, today, the oil price has dropped to 52 cents a litre, so we are filling up. Waiting a extra week has saved us over 100 euros. And waiting two months has saved over 400, which we can now spend on extra wood, because we'll run out of that in January, I reckon. 

What a pickle. But it was great after the plumber's visit this morning (because of course, when we put the heating on yesterday, the damn thing wasn't working...), to hear the sound of hot water glugging through the system and for the first time this winter, feel the edge of the cold really drop off the house. We are only heating the rooms we use, of course - kitchen, office, bedroom, bathroom and one rad (out of three) in the living room, but the difference it has made already is astounding.

Oh la. Still, we must make it last indefinitely, given the global outlook, so the current plan is to run it from 7.00 till noon, then manage without for the rest of the day. At 5.00, we light the woodburner, which keeps the living room end good and toasty for evening, and during the night, the heating will come on if the temperature in the house drops below 12 degrees. Even at this level of consumption, we'll have spent 2,000 euros by winter's end, plus whatever the electricity amounts to, so frugality is definitely the name of the game this year.

Keeping my fingers crossed...

I was thinking the other day about my go-to items this winter.

Some of them I've had for years. My first thermals, for instance, I bought when doing nature photography in 1991, and I am STILL wearing one of the long-sleeved vests, although the long johns bit the dust a couple of years ago. Every few years I've stocked up on more thermals until I now have a set for every day of the week. 

Another big batch of warm clothes dates from 1996, when we were spending our first Christmas in France. It was the 'winter of minus-15' and a state of emergency was declared. With evil Siberian winds on top, the real temperatures were terrifying and after enduring two purgatorial weeks in our 'new' holiday home in France, during which I got chilblains (a standard winter visitor when I was growing up, but about which I had entirely forgotten) I rushed back to the January sales in London and loaded up on knitwear.

Other items, however, are new and proving their weight in gold this year, particularly my new fleeces.

What you need in winter clothing is a real feeling of protection - snugness, of texture and softness - clothes you can snuggle in and which keep you warm simply by looking at them. So if you're looking to cosy up this winter, here are some things that have given me a lot of mileage.

Thermals: my current faves are from Winter Silks, a US company that does a fantastic range of items, from long knickers (for those whose office code dictates hosiery) to cashmere-and-silk longjohns (yeah, I wish...). I ordered their lightest-weight items last year and they're great - very thin, fit nicely under clothing and are comfy to sleep in. In the past, I've also had really good thermals from M&S, in silk and merino wool, and pure silk knits from Patra.

Trousers: the best, bar none, for warmth are my knitted merino ski pants from Adrienne Vittadini, bought in 1996. I got three pairs and they're all still going strong. These were high-end items but ski wear of all kinds is fantastically useful stuff, even if you're on a low budget - the modern synthetic fabrics are waterproof, comfortable and cheap. Last year I got some bog-standard padded ski trousers from my local sports shop for a mere 27 euros, and these have proved fabulously useful for walking the dog - the wind is just stopped in its tracks. On slightly warmer days, indoors, I stick to my Boden moleskins or cord pants over thermals, which have a nice feeling of winter luxury and are well styled. 

Skirts: my most-worn winter skirts are a wrap boiled-wool skirt that I bought from Dickens and Jones in Regent's Street in 1996, and three knitted merino wool pencil skirts bought from John Lewis's JFW label the same year. Boiled wool goes in and out of fashion, so when it's in, snap it up - it's incredibly useful stuff and doesn't show its age. The merino knits have also aged very well and still look brand new - merino is more expensive than lambswool but the cost per wear can end up making it cheaper. I'm also a fan of Boden's skirts in moleskin, cord or velvet - for practicality I go for the longer versions to cut the drafts. They're usually unlined, so you do need thermal tights and a warm slip underneath in cold weather, but they have the usual high Boden standard of cut and finish. 

Sweaters: cowlnecks or polonecks (what Americans might call 'turtlenecks') are the best because - doh - they keep your neck warm. I stick to a simple look with polonecks - just earrings and no necklace, as you can easily overdo it. Mine are nearly all vintage cashmere and cost peanuts, but if you're buying new, go for cashmere, merino or lambswool and call it an investment. Cream, black and beige probably give you the most mileage, though my favourite sweaters are mint green and salmon pink, and you can't go wrong with classic names such as Pringle, Ballantyne and Jaegar. M&S also do very good, moderately priced knitwear in lambswool.

Thicker knitwear is best if it's a classic Arran knit (this cable-knit sweater at left is from the Celtic Sheepskin Company), oiled wool ganzy, Fairisle or Shetland, which offers more warmth for weight than any other wool. Many of my sweaters of this type are hand-made and vintage: knitwear from the 1930s and 1940s is fabulous, as few people back then had central heating and knitwear had to keep the wearer warm, not just look good. However, my all-time favourite cardi is a Shetland jacket by Cornish artist Corinne Carr. This is feather-light, extremely warm, goes with everything (it's in shades of black, grey and beige) and has hand-made buttons. I've worn it every winter for 15 years and hope to have it for the rest of my days. I've also had huge mileage from a massive wrap merino cardigan from K&S, and also from every piece of knitwear bought under the Linea label from House of Fraser. I usually buy these in the sales and have never yet discarded an item - they just go on for years.