A life in letters: Erythema ab igne

It’s erythema ab igne, my father would smile when I was sitting close to the open fire in our house at Westerton, and the expanse of my leg between my short trousers and my woolly grey socks was covered in red blotches. He may also have explained that  ‘ab igne’ comes from Latin, and means ‘from the fire.’ I recall being rather proud of this piece of recondite knowledge and paraded it in appropriate situations where I felt my erudition would impress. Given that my skin returned to its normal condition soon after I left the fireside I suspect that my father’s diagnosis was less than strictly accurate. But it sounded good.