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Landlady: Pop into your local spa
Every Easter holiday, The Small Daughter and I usually indulge in what has become known as our Easter Eggstravaganza. This normally means a long-haul flight to spend 10 days somewhere rather exotic, a 10 day period which brings us neatly to the point where we really start to get on each other’s nerves. It is always nice to return to Landlady Towers and lock ourselves in separate bedrooms at the end of it all.
This year, maybe Easter crept up on us too quickly, but I failed to book anything exotic, which is a good thing, being as I now only have two lodgers rather than four, and the new bathroom flooring I’ve chosen (with the help of The Two Daughters) is going to cost more than a long-haul flight to Australia. Shocking, but I decided a few years ago that, when I need to replace something in the house I’m going to do it in the best possible quality so that I never have to do it again.
Feeling rather guilty for my lack of long-haul mothering, I booked a two-day spa break near Arundel for The Small Daughter and I. At the age of 15, The Small Daughter was more than happy to indulge in a couple of days-worth of facials and massages. Well, she was happy with this short-haul arrangement until photos from previous years’ holidays flashed up on my Kindle, showing us on a beach in the Seychelles and standing next to a giant Buddha in Kamakura in Japan. Oops.
Another reason why I can’t go too far afield this year is because I’ve decided to have a big house party at Landlady Towers over the Easter weekend, which neatly coincides with my birthday. There are many things I need to prepare for the party, not to mention mentally preparing myself for the inevitable bombsite that will be sure to present itself the following day. This year promises to be messier than most as The Big Son is bringing his mobile cocktail bar and free-for-all cocktails, plus my friends, so it’s not necessarily a great partnership.
The Cuban Boyfriend is insisting on bringing his very loud speaker from Scandinavia, as he believes my sound-system to be inferior. I think it’s just a ruse in order for him to check a bag into the hold as we’re travelling to Turkey the week after and I’m convinced he wants to fill my Turkish house with his bric-a-brac as well.