2014

Pandora (13) is giggling on the computer next to me, enjoying her first Facebook flirtation with a boy called Ted (12). Ted says he loves her.

It's my first visit to what's laughingly called my 'health club' for a month.  It's neither healthy (we've just shared a chocolate brownie) nor a club (a small glass of wine costs a fiver and members dont get to share out the profits - those all go to that bloke with the woolly jumpers and the beard, who, unsurprisingly, laughs a lot).

2014 is about to begin. B&B proper. 

Since the lovely, funny, outward bound guys, I've had a family of rock climbers and three days later let out the house for Christmas week.

I mind very much that people are happy in my home.  I waited for the family's arrival with bated breath, having spent the previous night away in another B&B to ensure I didnt crease anything or leave any drips on the basins of my immaculate home.  

My guests turned out to be the perfect 'fit'.  Three siblings, their families, and a grandparent.  Just like our own family Christmas of 2012.  I was quite emotional about it.  "The house is made for you," I said.  "I am so very happy that it is you."

I will never know how much I should have enjoyed eight nights of me-time.  I spent most of it talking, and the rest of it trying to get my voice back. Nothing is ever quite as much fun as it should be, when you only feel 90%.