BLOG 48- Hostest with the mostest

“Having people to stay consists of your not having your own way, and their not having theirs.” ~Maarten Maartens, noted Dutch Author (of My Poor Relations, A Question of Taste, The Greater Glory etc, etc)

As a child there was seldom a period when my parents were not hosting something, it was normal to have to wait for the bathroom because a non member of my immediate family was in there ‘freshening up’. It meant that from an early age learnt that being shy and hanging onto a parental leg was a short cut to being grounded, and making oneself useful to my parents’ house guests a sure fire way to being spoilt rotten. My parents are international people so had guests from all over the world. Often these guests had interesting tales to tell, so it was no hardship to appear spellbound while they went into raconteur mode. However children are manipulative critters and my sisters and I learnt if we were charming enough, guests would often bring ‘something for the kids’ on their next visit. Such currency didn’t stop there. I at least figured that if I played my cards right and was helpful to my parents and courteous to their guests, I could get mileage out of that visit for months. I used to listen out at the top of the stairs when guests departed for the 4 words that would mean both my parents were putty in my hands for a while after the guests had gone. Those words following the mention of my name were ‘a credit to you’.

As a consequence, somewhere deep in my wiring is the belief that having home means having people to stay. I do find myself saying ‘stay at mine’ an awful lot. But more to the point, people do rather enjoy being invited to stay at my house for a night, the weekend or longer.

However, I have just tallied up the last two months and found over 21 nights of that 62 day period was spent with a guest or three under my roof. Now I know I should take this as a compliment – clearly this means like my parents I am a wonderful host, who knows how to treat house guests.

But this latest spate of visits has rather lead me to wonder if maybe when my friends are visiting the big city, I should simply let them check into hotel or bed and breakfast. Because you know what…the last lot left yesterday and I have only just now stopped screaming! You see, throwing your home open to others does not always run without a casualty or two.

The worst thing about being ‘the hostess with the mostess’ is that all the work you do for your guests has to go unnoticed. If they notice the effort you put in… you failed. Having a guest is rather like being a parent, it’s all pre-planning, hard graft, and expense but if you are good at it – it’s received as ‘all part of the service’.

From a host point of view, someone coming to stay means they have gone out of their way to come over, so other than their transportation costs, they shouldn’t have to pay for anything out of pocket, including entertainment and meals. This means that as well as providing shelter you are now down for providing entertainment and food.

But to be honest… from the moment they agree to come over…you have your mind on one thing…. shelter. Now I love my home. This is the first place I have ever lived that is not shared with another adult. For the first time in my life I do not have to accommodate another persons belongings or taste (or lack of it). I have style my home in my own image… (or Ikeas!). However an unexpected result of this is that I am entirely vulnerable to criticism. It doesn’t get any more personal than a critique of your home when you were the only person who chose those items!

Having guests to stay means suddenly your personal nest is open to the opinions of others. First thing that goes through my mind after I say ‘Lovely, so that’s a date …looking forward to seeing you’… is “Oh My God…just LOOK at the state of this place!”. I start looking at my home through their eyes and needless to say find it lacking…. Suddenly I’m in the homewares department of every shop in town. I don’t know why I believe that buying 3 new cushions will transform my living room or why buying a new lamp will totally revamp the guest room…. But I do. (Note to self: All that happens is that each room becomes slightly less stylish and slightly more cluttered!)

Then comes the cleaning frenzy. Now I do have to admit that when it comes to cleaning… I’m pretty anal anyway. But even though I know my house is clean, suddenly I produce industrial grime busters and practically strip the enamel of the bath, and turn the hallway into an ice skating rink such is the polish on the parquet. I rewash every sheet, towel, and flannel in the house …just in case. My neighbours are now used to the village of white tents that appears on my lawn… actually it’s just me taking all the duvets out side and spraying them all with Fabreeze even though they get dry cleaned seasonally. Then of course comes the demand that anyone who visits before the houseguest arrive to please levitate rather than walk on my deep cleaned carpets.

Once I’ve got my head out of the loos… yeah… bleached within an inch of their lives then cistern waters mixed with toilet blue and green to give a particular fragrance and colour (environment WHAT environment!)… I turn my mind to toiletries. I desperately try to remember everything that my guest may find they have forgotten at home.

Once upon a time it was just shampoo, soap, toothpaste, tissues, lotion and cotton buds. This means that all those free samples I’ve harvested from magazines and nicked from hotels get thrown into a basket in the guest room. Also joining them were the free toothbrushes you get if you fly abroad. I used to feel quite happy with that, but once I had a houseguest who needed a certain toiletry unexpectedly and enquired if I could provide it. Of course being caught out without something a guest requires is mortifying - so now I have to think about guests potential needs for sanitary wear and contraception! And don’t start me on the medical supply list… paracetamol is not enough… you would be surprised at the demand for antihistamines and plasters (Doesn’t ANYBOY know how to walk AROUND stinging nettles anymore???)

Then the food/drink shopping stage arrives. On the food front invariably, I end up cooking much more elaborate food than I normally do. Showing off your culinary skills is the curse of being a confident and competent cook. I have got a little better and only give house guests ONE elaborate meal per stay, but face facts… every meal when guests stay seems to be three courses and normally pudding is unheard of in this house! Then of course the drinks menu demands that you are running a scaled down public house from your drinks cabinet and you not only need different mixers to accommodate your guests tastes, but different spirits, wines and beers from your usual taste.

If the world was fair and equal everyone would drink vodka and tonic and eat pork chops. But it isn’t. I have at least three close friends that are vegetarian, plus a host of wine drinkers, friends who dislike certain meats or pulses, friends who have dietary restrictions and one particular beer drinking friend who always turns up at my house saying “I do hope you have decent beer and none of that Stella or Red Stripe rubbish”. If he wasn’t charming in other ways quite frankly I’d kick him out believe me, but the point I guess is a good one, if you are host you should have exactly what your guests require. So like with the toiletries I am suddenly rubbing the crystal ball before writing a list and taking off to the supermarket.

Also having guests means that you have to have a variety of ‘grazing food’ as I am yet to have a house guest whose appetite can be stated by the 3 meals a day provided. So of course you have to get nibbles in, so you can have them strategically placed about. Even beverages need a top up from my usual fayre. In normal life I can put on the kettle and have a cuppa without snacks…. but guests seem always to require biscuits. Then you have the weird ones who manage to live in England but NOT drink tea (or coffee), so you have to have alternative beverages to their taste. (I once had a friend who only drank Hot Chocolate – needless to say I bought it for her stay…. It was a long time till when she came back to the UK and I thank heaven I checked in the jar before I popped it out with the other beverages…. It was FULL of little insects!). But that’s guests for you, you find yourself providing things you’d never bother with – like having chilled water available for them to take up to bed… where as usually I’m quite content to swig water from the tap.

When I have finally stopped titivating with the household issues I’m onto my timetable. Oh yes… no point having guests without things for them to do.

Now I do have to admit that my timetable is not set in stone, but I find it is useful to have a basic schedule of stuff to do in case sitting around chatting, eating and drinking isn’t all they want to do. It’s never any fun to have that “I don’t know. What do YOU want to do?” conversation. So before they arrive I’d already been busy finding out in advance different things going on in the area that are inexpensive. I’m lucky my local council have loads of free and cheap events, and also we have parks, lakes and woodlands… but I do have to check out indoor and evening attractions also. (And pray that my guests if so attracted do not expect ME to pick up the tab for those ones).

Having guests doesn’t mean I have to entertain them 24 hours a day. They may want some time to just relax and rest. Which is fine with overnight or weekend guests, but longer - like a fresh fish…after three days lolling about your home and something begins to stink! (Metaphorically at least) Having some events scheduled, means you can get them out of the house.

Youd think I could settle after finally settled down after restyling each room, nuking any possible source of bad odour or grime, getting in every possible toiletry, topping up the first aid kit, buying food and beverages that are alien to my normal shopping, and drawing up a schedule of things to do. But no, I have one job left….to try and make it look like the house has not been especially cleaned for them, and that all is as it would be anyway. Nothing makes a guest less comfortable than knowing that they have put you out.

So here comes the dumb bit.

I run around ‘living’ in the house. An unwashed glass and a crumbed plate in the sink. A few carefully selected items in the drainer. The aroma of something recently cooked. The opening of all the new products and pouring or spooning out a bit. Getting toilet rolls to be a few sheets into use. Making body imprints on the cushions. The placement of a casually opened newspaper. The something to put in the freshly cleaned bin. Popping the radio on, laying a few casually spread files next to the lap top which is now turned on.

Okay, given the three day blitz that preceeded a guest arriving, that may sound nuts… but nothing makes a guest feel more at home than a “You take us as you find us” atmosphere.

The doorbell goes, I fling open the door with a big welcome and an “excuse the state of the place”…. And we are off.

Every need they have anticipated, I confidently stride into the time ahead. All flows without anxiety… then they leave… with a parting comment about How lovely their stay has been and how relaxed they feel and how totally pampered they’ve been.

And I close the door and a feeling of well being soaks up from the tingle in my toes to the end of the last curl on my head…. Till I look around.

And I find disorder reigns. It usually takes me three days to get my house back in order after having guests. Not that they trash the place – most are very good helpful even. But they put things back where they don’t go, they hang the loo roll the wrong way round… and Lord alone knows what they did with the remote for the DVD player.

After the last load of guests left – I sighed with relief, summer is over. Everyone becomes a homebody in autumn, the invasions of my home have ended for now. I poured myself a well deserved VaT and put my feet up to watch the omnibus of House.

Then I heard the most almighty crash from the kitchen. Ahhhhhhhhh… two cupboard doors stood open and the prior contents of the cupboard (glassware) lay smashed before them. I eased my way around the pile of broken heirlooms to ascertain what had happened.

It didn’t take me long to figure it out. In an attempt to helpful a houseguest decided to wash up and pack away whilst I was engaged else where with the rest of the guests. Unfortunately, not knowing where things go he packed away some very heavy objects onto an empty shelf. The glassware was kept beneath this deliberately empty shelf. Packed with the weight of the items my guest put there, the shelf collapsed into my glasses smashing them all to smithereens.

I back into the living room, poured more V on my T and gulped it down. The last words I had said to that guest as he toddled down my path towards his waiting taxi was “Yes, it HAS been lovely”. I felt the need to add an addendum to that, “….but excuse me, I have to scream now”. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

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