A couple of weeks ago before we moved and the proverbial hit the fan,  we were sitting in our little rented flat all in our jammies watching a bit of rubbish telly.

Munich snuggled up to me for a cuddle. After a minute or two she started surreptitiously sniffing at my dressing gown.  Lashes looked up. “Did you just smell Nanny’s dressing gown?” Munki  blushed and  admitted she had. “Why on earth would you do that?” The answer came back, “Because it smells like custard.”

Lashes looked at me  incredulously for confirmation. “Yup, it does smell like custard. I have no idea why. Come and have a sniff.

That was the start of a five minute sniff fest and discussion about if it actually smelt like custard or vanilla and why it smelt like that.  Conclusion: I have no idea. It did smell rather nice though.

A few days later I washed it and it doesn’t smell like custard any more. That’s a shame I liked my custardy dressing gown.

So. Back to present day: What’s happening on the good old English Riviera and the  Nirvana that Boofuls, Lashes and me were looking for?

We’re all knackered, that’s what.

Twelve hour days of non stop cleaning, internet booking websitey stuff and cable tracing. Honestly, I thought Boofuls liked his wires but he’s a beginner compared to the efforts of the previous owner of this place. Stocking great wodges of wires are trailing and dangling everywhere. He’s made no effort to hide them, they just dangle around all the walls like unsightly bunting.

Let’s not even discuss the cleanliness of the kitchen. Suffice to say a five litre tub of industrial de greaser and no skin left on my hands did the job. Now I’m deep cleaning the bedrooms and the rest of the hotel before we welcome our first paying guests next Monday. It’s a bit of a race against time because it took me four hours to deep clean just one room yesterday. Not that it was disgustedly dirty or anything.  We have fifteen rooms in total and all the public areas to get up to scratch over the weekend. No pressure.

Poor old Douggie the doggie has been so stressed his been biting chunks out of his own tail leaving it red raw and painful. To be honest, if I had a tail I’d probably be biting it as well. I’l be glad when we get into a nice routine and then we can all calm the hell down a bit.  It’s a good job we have the beach on our doorstep to walk the dog and destress on or I’d probably be in the funny farm by now.

Happy days!


3 thoughts on “”

    1. Thank you, Annabelle. It is a bit of a mountain. I made the mistake of starting on the dining room at 9.30pm last night."I'll just give these mirrors a clean." Mistake! At midnight I was still crawling round the floor cleaning the dust laden skirting boards.

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