"That's rather clever," said the pretty young dentist, as she peered into my mercury-filled mouth.

She was talking about the way my previous private dentists have artfully smeared some kind of whitish overlay porcelain filler-stuff onto two of my front teeth, making them look straighter and less sticky-outy. The result is that the cutting edge of them is very thick, but I don't care - anything in the name of beauty.

My little family has been going to the same private dentist in Ashburton for over ten years. We used to see Lucinda who is very nice and takes a lot of trouble over us. But now we are poor I felt we ought to check out the NHS option down the road.

It was totally empty, and the light, bright waiting room upstairs is about 50' by 25' , very comfortable, nicely laid out magazines etc, but we didn't have to wait in it, as we  were all ushered straight away in to see the dentist.

"Very nice clean teeth," she said to Beloved Daughter.

"WHAT?!" I jerked out of my revery dreaming of the ultimate American capped smile - not like David Bowie's.

My new, intensive regime to ensure that a reluctant Daughter now cleans her teeth twice a day, while Esteemed Partner counts to 100 in Spanish, French and Russian, astonishingly seems to have worked.  I have been berating myself for the past six months, as last visit she had to have two fillings - clear proof, in my book, that I am a bad mother.

So we went over to reception, all with 100% clean bill of health, to pay as usual.

The nice lady said, "If you're on child tax credits it's free - you just need to let me have the number on your white card."

"Blimey - that's good," I replied, "But I don't remember receiving a white card."

"That's OK," the lady said, "You can ring me when you find it when you get home."

So off we went for macaroni cheese in the Green Ginger, having paid nothing at all for our dental visit with our lovely charming new dentist, in such a glorious ambience, and enjoyed ourselves a lot.

Later that day I was talking this through with a friend who was also born with a silver spoon in their mouth, private school/university education, comfortable family blah blah blah; who had had a crown fitted the very same day. "God how much was that?" I gasped. "£400?"

No, entirely free, because that friend is on 'working tax credits'.

And I qualify for 'child tax credits', just because my ex-husband lives at a different address - even if he earned a million quid apparently I would still be eligible! In effect this means that the tax payer is subsidising men who choose to stray.

And another mate with whom I was discussing this the other day says she spends her child benefit on Cava, as her children's private school fees are already covered.

It's a very odd system.  I know it's necessary for some people, but I don't think it should cover people like us. I shall, however, continue to claim if the money's there. Just as I continue to fly, as the planes are there, and drive a car, as Marvin's just outside. I turn the lights and the heating down, because I am mean and own lots of woolly jumpers, not because I think I can influence the rest of the world.

But I hope that in time all these benefits available to people who can, or should be able, to pay for them themselves, are eventually eradicated.  And when the Daily Mail reports on it, screaming "Shock horror squeeze on the middle classes yet again", I shall say "Good".

Meanwhile I have just discovered that my income is too high for me to qualify for the mysterious white card, and I have had to stump up £17.50 after all, for my examination.

Bummer. I've wasted bloody hours, not to mention nearly a hundred quid, trying to get to grips with a website hoster-thing recommended by the Telegraph On-Line, called 'Go Daddy'; and it's all been an A1 total disaster and waste of time. So Go, Daddy, Go.

And now, for £36, I've just signed up to this jolly little website-builder equivalent. Don't you like the pink? I might change it if not.

Anyway, it's called 'justhost.com', and it's potsy pie to use, and I'm now having a ball.  Can't wait to create my B&B page! I would almost rather do that than watch telly!

So sorry, Go Daddy - you are too complicated for thicko's like me.  I might graduate back to you when I'm a bit more techie.

In the meantime, I've got to sort my B&B bit out asap. Because Trip Advisor is currently refusing to list me.  As far as they're  aware my lovely home is only available for rental in its entirity,  and these days you have to pay for that to be promoted through them.  Now they tell me!

So a B&B website is suddenly a priority.

My initial point of contact, The Ashburton Cookery School, isn't yet swamping me with enquiries - they did warn me not to rely on them to see me through!

But I think I am the only B&B on Dartmoor with a hot tub, and for £45 you can also enjoy a relaxing massage from Esteemed Partner.  He specialises in something  called 'trigger points' and if you suffer from a bad back - well your cure lies at my door!

Yes - that's his real name - Bethan Trumpington. He really does exist - he's a real person! He's probably reading this right now!

I have just heard that he is Her new squeeze. She brought him along to the local hunt meet yesterday, and he is
to partner Her at the hunt dinner in a couple of weeks time. That will cause a ripple of interest amongst the great and the good - average age 65 - of those attending!

It turns out that he and I were at school together, although I didn't know him, and even odder, his younger brother is married to the sister of the best and nicest PA I ever had. Nothing is secret on the internet anymore.

I am surprised by the impact this news has had on me. When I heard, I found myself reaching for a Cava and a fag.

I am not feeling quite so gung-ho anymore, either, about parking my lovely new old Ford, Marvin, next to Her BMW in the school carpark, now that She is happily ensconsed with a wealthy bloke from Gloucestershire, while my dear little family is still dealing with the detritus of a broken marriage - however positive a front we are trying to put on it.

Actually, to tell you the truth, he is not  called Bethan Trumpington.  His real name is even funnier, but poor bloke is a total innocent in all of this, so I thought it a bit unfair that he should be the only person on this blog to be immediately identifiable!

Internet dating has a habit of throwing you together with people you otherwise would probably never meet.

Esteemed Partner, who has lived eight miles down the road from me for seventeen years, and I got together via
'Guardian Soulmates', one of the five sites I joined, forgetting that most of its members would be be lefty Guardian readers. When I told him I only read the Daily Mail, he nearly got up and left!

That was over two years ago now, and the better we know each other, the closer we become.

This morning he made some Grauniad-type comment along the lines of "All pharmaceutical companies are evil".

I turned to Beloved Daughter (10) who is at home with a sore throat, and said "Yes, they experiment with all of their products on animals, especially on rats, beagles, monkeys and pigs, so that they can then provide us with things that have saved your life already, like Calpol, Strepsils, Night Nurse, and antibiotics, and.. and things."

No reaction from EP, so I went on...

"Then you get shops who make their money by saying that none of their products have been tested on animals, despite the fact that most of the ingredients they use were, even if it was years ago."

I still don't even know whether I meant what I was saying, I was just enjoying my little rant, and confusing my dear little girl.  I just had to check out of the corner of my eye to see whether EP was managing a weak and resigned fond smile, or if he was preparing to stalk home. He was doing neither. He is used to me by now.  He had simply got up to clean his teeth and have breakfast.

Because the real difference between us has less to do with world affairs, and much more to do with attitudes. I am single minded, I believe, in order to get a lot of things done as efficiently as possible. EP gives himself time and space during work time, to think of others.

So this afternoon, between racing around looking for plumbing equipment with which to sort out my house, he had taken the trouble to visit the Co-op to buy a pack of ready-made macaroni cheese for Beloved Daughter - her favourite food.

As it exploded all over my microwave, because he had forgotten to put the slits in the top, I had to reflect, for the nth time, that there really are no right and wrong ways to be.

A most exciting day today! I have realised that my new life is well and truly underway.

I have had my first B&B customers in the form of the film crew.

I've received my TWO cheques on the same day, booking my house for two separate weeks - one over Easter and the other in the middle of the summer holidays.

I have succeeded in buying my two old bangers, 'Marv' - the Ford Focus to get us around in, and an old Shogun for the horses; meanwhile the Range Rover is up on Ebay, looking very clean after a professional valet.

And today I have been immersed in a ringround to Speaking Agencies on behalf of 'my' poet, Matt Harvey.

It was really scary and I dreaded starting it. In the past, when my Ex's corporate speaking comprised our main source of income, we had a string of PAs for whom 'the ringround' was top priority, with anything else coming second. None of them could bear to do it, so they ended up not doing anything at all and getting fired.

And now, five years later, here I am, back to the old grindstone, going through my ancient list, endeavouring to coerce old contacts to sign up Matt, in the middle of a triple-dip recession.

And it's been great! Unbelievably, nearly all the same people are still there, working for the same agencies in the same offices on the same phone numbers. I thought they would all have gone down like dominos in the current economic climate! And so far they all seem to remember me, and have been really friendly and enthusiastic. Even someone at Brooks International in the States, an agency that uses both Blairs, was really nice and encouraging to me!

I've got down to 'D' on my list so far, and I need to send them the info. By the time I've finished with 'Z', I look forward to sitting on my bum while the money just rolls on in!