• WE’RE heading on our holidays soon and for the first time in years I’m going to try something novel: enjoy the build-up.
I mean, often times this is the best bit isn’t it? In the same way that the night before you get the school holidays, or Christmas Eve can sometimes be better than the main event, so too can the few days before you turn on the ‘OOO’ message on your email.
Usually though what happens is that I turn into a mad woman during this period, so much so that my fellow holidaymakers (that would be my family) can’t stand me by the time we take off –they detest me so much, they don’t even want to be in the same time zone as me, not alone sit beside me on the plane, as I’ll have been so insufferable the previous few days.
• I can’t quite explain why I go from my regular semi-crazy to full-blown mad, just because I’m ‘checking out’ for a week (not even a fortnight, not even 10 days, just a mere seven), but I do, every single time.
I’ll try to get every last job off the ‘to do’ list no matter how epic, ambitious, or outrageous. So that includes things like: updating my CV, writing a will, putting all the photos from the last 20 years in albums and in the correct sequence, deworming the dog, decluttering the attic, starting the tax returns, and doing some batch cooking to make sure we’ll have healthy options in the freezer when we get back. That’s only if I don’t decide to defrost the freezer. And yes, it’s as exhausting as it sounds.
• Then there’s the pre-holiday housekeeping which goes next level. While some normal people are off getting pedicures, I’m down on all fours cleaning the skirting boards with cotton buds, scrubbing the oven and of course meticulously high dusting (low dusting and in-between dusting). And then there’s the logistics of trying to keep things clean, once you clean them. The bathroom is the trickiest room. I usually try to cordon off the main bathroom (after its forensic scrub), the day before we leave, and get people to use the other loo. Then on the day of departure after I’ve cleaned that loo, I’ll strongly recommend people wait until we get to the airport to answer any calls of nature, which in my mind isn’t all that unreasonable ... is it?
• There’s also the challenge to use up every last item in the fridge – waste not, want not etc. That means meals can be a bit of a ‘creative mix’ with a day or two to departure – sliced ham, cheese, capers, a rasher, pickles and a boiled egg for dinner wouldn’t be unusual. On the positive side, it means we usually get a touch of holiday tummy out of the way before we leave at all (not really a problem unless the toilet is already out of bounds). Oh and regardless of the weather, we dine ‘al fresco’ to keep the floors crumb-free too. Smart, I know!
• What really challenges me though is the bed linen. There is no easy way to get sheets changed, washed and back on the bed unless ... you are going on an early morning flight, which we are. We have to get up at some ungodly hour, like 3am, so I think it’s perfectly reasonable if we all just nap, fully dressed, in the car for a few hours before hitting the road, right? That way I’ll get the sheets and the pyjamas laundered. Bingo! The universe has heard me!
• Packing also gets me in a bit of a tizzy. With a week to go I’ll start squirrelling away my husband’s clothes so it’s not a last-minute dash to launder the lot (obviously all laundry baskets and appliances have to be empty before I can leave, that’s a given). The other day, he looked in the wardrobe and was a bit surprised to see his options had narrowed to a black polo neck, another winter knit, and a denim jacket that I usually disapprove of him wearing (yes, it’s banned).
He looked a bit broken but he knows me well enough by now to just go with it. He got his revenge by reminding me that we’ve a 10kg baggage allowance. My toilet bag will probably weigh more than that!
• Anyway, because of all the above, I’m usually so exhausted and demented that I collapse onto the plane (looking nothing like those pictures I’ve saved on my ‘airport chic’ Pinterest board) and my husband starts pressing mini gin and tonics into my hand in a desperate bid to get the ‘holiday mood’ going. It usually helps, to be honest.
But that’s the old me. This time I’m determined I’ll be different. I’m going to dial down the dusting and crank up the holiday cheer – maybe even start dancing around the kitchen to ‘La Isla Bonita’, or ‘La Bamba’ if it wouldn’t be too much of a shock to my family. Now, I’ll still obviously ban everyone from using the family bathroom with a day to go – I’m not a complete slob – but I have to keep some energy in the tank as we’re going to the sort of place where you have to make your own beds on arrival, and you have to clean before you depart, so all in all I reckon I’ll only have around three days of R&R. You’d have to wonder is it worth the hassle? It is I suppose – if only for the joy of coming home to those gleaming, clean skirting boards.
Cleaning the skirting board – at least they’ll be gleaming when you return from holidays! (Photo: Shutterstock)
