I sometimes pray to St Jerome. He is the patron saint of grumpy people. I ask him as I get older to ensure I don’t become one of the grumpy old men. They seem to be everywhere, and a lot of them are about my age. Some honed the skills of grumpiness when younger, but many who were lively, chirpy, happy people have now taken on the Victor Meldrew mantle and are slowly descending into a quagmire of negativity and gloom.