100 Breakfasts

Today I served my 100th breakfast since everything went mad three weeks ago. Phew.  I am exhausted.  Cream Crackered.  I haven't been able to do or think about anything apart from Bed and Breakfast now for nearly a month.

My cleaner, Sashka, is laughing her head off to see Lady Muck with her head down a loo cleaning up other people's poo.  I have gone back to being a (very well remunerated) chambermaid - a job I last did when I was 17.

I thought this B&B lark was money for old rope to begin with.  That was when I had the odd couple staying for a couple of nights occasionally.

Instead, I have found I have never worked so hard, under such pressure, for such a sustained period of time, in my life.  Well actually since I was publicising X finally succeeding in his world record attempt on the North Pole back in 2003.

My current guests are a jolly band of four from down the road in Plymouth, who were looking for somewhere remote to stay, so that they could make as much noise as they liked without disturbing anyone, while enjoying champagne and several bottles of gold leaf cinammon flavoured vodka, celebrating their 26th wedding anniversary.  I wanted to give them an award for receiving my 100th breakfast, complete with its very Best Eggs In The World courtesy Kind Neighbours, but I couldn't think what to give them, so I didn't.

Tonight I get my own bedroom back at last.  I have been dossing in whatever bed happened to be available at the time, with all my things packed into a green Tesco crate, as I moved from room to room.  Last night it was Revered Son's bed again (he was away at a party in Dorset, and I am dreading finding out what he got up to there) which is two floors away from the nearest available plumbing.

This is the first moment I've had when I could put fingers to keyboard and draft a blog, since before we went on our uber-luxury holiday in Tuscany, courtesy my kind sister,  at the end of last month.  It has all been an extraordinary and surreal experience.  Ask me for 'sunny side up', 'easy over', 'egg over hard', fried, poached, scrambled or boiled - I can do the lot.  It has been terrifying, but at last I am gathering up the blobs on Trip Advisor and everybody appears to be having a very jolly time here.  Hurray!  I love my home being used for what it does best.  A jolly good party!