The Landlady is off for a final foreign fling.

Having spent last week moaning about the new school starting times of The Small Daughter, I have now had time to see the benefit of getting up so early.

I am delighted to say that I’ve already dispatched The Small Daughter at the bus stop, been running, emptied the dishwasher, emailed my Hasting lessees about the freehold purchase and written this column, and it’s only 8.30am. I don’t start work until 9.30 and am not used to having so much time in which to luxuriate.

These early hours only work however, if you manage to get to bed before 11pm at night, which is an unusual occurrence these days, and last night I had to send The New Boyfriend home so that he didn’t distract me from going to bed on time. I am not used to having a boyfriend in this country and had forgotten the effort that one has to put into a serious relationship, especially when you’re used to gallivanting all over the world and doing more or less exactly as you like.

“I will fashion some kind of beak when in situ and stand on one leg all night”

In a final spot of gallivanting, I’m off to Ibiza on Wednesday and, once I’ve finished work this afternoon, will be engaged in making an animal costume for a night out we’ve planned at a club called The Zoo Project, which takes place in an abandoned zoo. I haven’t made a ‘costume’ in order to go to a nightclub since about 1987. Because I have a lot of pink items in my wardrobe already and a skirt with feathers on it – also from about 1987, as the myriad moth holes would seem to confirm – I have decided to go as a flamingo. I will fashion some kind of a beak when in situ and stand on one leg all night, which should be challenging considering that normally I find it hard to stand on two when I’ve had one over the eight in a nightclub.

Usually, I am wary of leaving new lodgers in the house when I go away on a trip, but my two new French girls seem perfectly capable of looking after themselves. Besides, their college hours are pretty rigorous and seem to run from 8.30am until 5pm, which is marvellous for me as I will have the house to myself all day. So theoretically on my return, the house should be tidy, as the Big Son is a marvel in the kitchen and always tidies up after himself and others. It is only really The Big Daughter who leaves a trail of mess wherever she goes, but she will not be at home because, horror of horrors, she is also going to Ibiza and, in an unexpected clash of holidays, will be there at the same time as me and my friend N. Needless to say, we have refused to tell each other where we’re staying. I just hope she’s not in the room next door.

Illustration: Jake McDonald www.shakeyillustrations.blogspot.com