Renting Your House Out Is Hard Work

The first time I rented out Wydemeet, it took Sashka, Kate and me nearly two months of preparation, stress and worry, thinking through what needed to be done, tidying up the garden, the field, mending things, painting things, deep cleaning; sorting out and emptying all drawers; throwing things away etc.

We were treading on each other's toes, with one person turning radiators off and another turning them back on again; one person putting things away and another getting them out again; all my precious beyond their sell-by-date pots being thrown away and me picking them back out of the bin; Kate providing me with a pair of curtains to hide my extensive plonk cellar from prying eyes; Kate hiding what's laughingly called my jewellery so that I couldnt find it; Sashka worrying about children going into the horses' field in case either party got hurt; me writing out extensive notes on how to work the Aga, the heating, the water, and what to do when everything went wrong; Tesco crate after Tesco crate of the family's belongings all cleared out to be stored away in safety...

Well.  

Last Monday I sat down for my usual coffee and fag with Sashka and her wonky knee, and said, "They're coming on Saturday.  Please could you do everything so that I don't have to panic about it.  I've just remembered we're meeting friends in Polzeath today; we're shopping and swimming tomorrow; I've got an internet lunch date on Wednesday; and lunch with Mum and my brother in Exeter on Thursday."

"That's fine," she said, and hobbled off to make up the first two of five bedrooms.

Wydemeet, being on Permanent Alert for guests is in a totally different state of overall repair now, compared with how it was 18 months ago.  This is one of the many upsides about running a B&B business.  But there are limits.

11.00pm Wednesday: Beloved Daughter, who leaves for an outward bound weekend in Wales the next morning, says, "I am so tired I feel dizzy, I can't do any more."

"No worries, I reply, I'll finish clearing up your Hell-hole room tomorrow."

6pm Thursday: Guests call to say can they come a day early.  "That's fine," I say - I offer a platinum service. Put down the phone and immediately call Sashka. 

"Help! Help! They're coming a day early! What are we (you) going to do, wonky knee and all??"

"That's fine," says Sashka, "I'll rope in my daughter and niece to help."

11.00pm Thursday: Mary says to herself, "I am so tired I feel dizzy, I can't do any more," and lies back on Beloved Daughter's unmade bed.

11.00am Friday: Mary comes in from mowing so hot she can't see through the sweat streaming down her face, bringing with it stinging mascara and suncream sloshing into her eyes.  To Sashka, who arrived at 7am and has just finished the strimming:  "Sashka, I am so tired I feel dizzy, I can't do any more."

"That's fine," says Sashka; "Get out of my hair and go to your Mum's."

So here I am.  Having done virtually nothing  at all to prepare my home for a week of visitors; and yet, if they have read the blurb properly and genuinely enjoy remoteness, mostly thanks to Sashka they should be having a jolly nice time.  Well I hope they are.  I don't even know whether they're leaving a day early, or have just got themselves an extra day simply through asking!

I'm sitting typing away, looking out through the rain and pine trees at the most exquisite part of West Dorset.  My horses are happily munching away at a livery in Mapperton, a hamlet just outside Beaminster, which is one of the most beautiful spots on earth, with high, deep, steep valleys of pasture, woodland, and winding river, long gallops and views across a patchwork of undulating fields over to the sea.  I have just enjoyed one of the best rides of my life with Mum's delightful next door neighbour, and the old banger Nissan made it to the livery and back - a miracle in itself.

I haven't spent eight solid days with my mother since I was at school, but the only spat we have had so far was when she tried to make me eat some week-old ham when there was a perfectly good quiche in the freezer, that had only cost £1.25.

This is truly one of the most enjoyable and relaxing holidays I have ever had.

And every minute that I sit here indulging myself - I am being paid for the privilege!

I think I had better just pinch myself!