Page 121 of ‘Things to Do Now You’re 50…’ begins: Buy a back scratcher and you will enjoy hours of pure bliss. This was a definite case of preaching to the converted.

I have had an itchy back since…well, since I’ve had a back, I suppose. Itching can be torture, especially when politeness prevents us from scratching, in public, for example. And I can vouch for the fact that there is no more pleasurable sensation in the world, as getting rid of an itch.

Over the years, I’ve tried many, many methods of relieving the itches:

• gripping a towel in each hand and rubbing it up and down my back (doesn’t scratch so much as stroke)
• using a knitting needle (quite dangerous!)
• using a knife! (ditto)
• asking someone else to do it (never a success because you simply can’t direct someone else’s fingers and nails to the exact spot required)

About six or so years ago, while out with my hubby for one of our long, country walks, I hit upon the idea of choosing a suitable stick to do the job. If bears can relieve their itches with the help of trees, then a smaller animal (me) must be able to do likewise with a smaller part of a tree.

You’d think it would be easy to find a stick on a country walk, but finding just the right shape, style and rigidity was tricky. We attracted quite a few looks of bewilderment too: usually it’s people with dogs who are looking for sticks, and we had no dog.

Once I had found my perfect specimen of scratchworthy topiary, I took it home and used it regularly. It was about eighteen inches long, with a similar girth to a wooden spoon, and it had several knobbles along its spine, which were just the job for digging into that annoying itch. The rapturous satisfaction I felt while using that stick could truly be compared to those experienced during a quite different ‘alone-in-my-room’ activity. I can well imagine the euphoria felt by a bear when it happens upon just the right kind of tree in the woods!

Alas, my stick and I had to part. I kept it at the side of my bed until we moved house (much to the surprise and amusement of the removals men!) but somehow it got lost in transit.

The above picture represents just the right sort of stick. Each end of the stick can cater for a specific type and place of itch. However, I have since progressed to other methods of alleviating the wriggling, embarrassing discomfort of an itchy back.

One day, my husband was making fun of me and my stick in front of my father-in-law. Highly amused, he said he had just the thing for me. He went to his garden shed and returned with a heavy, metal gardening fork. This has been my scratcher of choice ever since. It absolutely can reach parts other back-scratchers can’t. Being metal, it’s also cool, so takes away that hot-and-bothered sensation at the same time as the itch. However, I have sometimes dug much too deeply (see those sharp fork points?) and made myself bleed! Not good!

So, in the end, I have found a happy medium; something that will discharge the itch but leave my back unscarred: a purpose-made, purpose-sold back-scratching stick, found in one of those Arkwright-style shops that sells everything from toffees to toilet rolls.

It’s purple (my favourite colour – a la Jenny Joseph!); it is telescopic; its teeth bite but don’t lacerate!

Now if you’ll excuse me (all this talk of itching and scratching!) I’m just going to my room for a little while…ecstasy!