Q. Last summer a friend of my brother-in-law’s house-sat for us while we were in Greece for a week. We paid him £25 a day and all he had to do was look after our dog and water the garden when necessary. I left food for him, including fruit, in our fridge. Mary, I say
Q. Is there an etiquette regarding security gates? My wife and I were invited to dinner by new neighbours who have bought a house formerly owned by lifelong friends of ours. In the old days, any visitor would have just swung in off the road through the open stone gates and made their way up
Q. ‘Alfred’ is a friend of 30 years’ standing who has just married for the first time. Alfred retains all his charms but his wife is a horror show who carps and criticises our beloved friend in front of us. The only plus is that she is often away on business. Alfred has a country
Q. We have friends to stay each year in Scotland and it’s always a pleasure. Guests know there is signal only in my dressing room, and that they should clear their decks electronically before coming. Yet every year, due to poor planning, people need to commandeer our laptop. The problem is they leave business flotsam
Q. I import a range of very high-quality food products from Europe into the UK. They are regarded as the best in the market and have a well-proven record in European stores, but the buyer at a well-known ‘upmarket’ supermarket is elusive. When I try to get in touch, he claims to be busy and,
Q. Having retired, my husband is now an enthusiastic observer of the goldfinches, greenfinches and bullfinches in our garden. Their numbers have increased dramatically since he planted ornamental thistles and teasels, and put out feeders with nyger seed. Our kitchen has French windows which offer a commanding view over the large garden. My problem is
Q. We have received a ‘save the week’ card from friends who take a villa abroad every year. We usually like their other guests but my husband has developed a near-phobia of one of their friends, a man who holds opposing political views from his own and is vocal about them. This man is in
Q. I am a member of a well-known country house opera society, and I organise annual trips to performances for a group of friends. We all look forward to these very much, as we don’t see each other as often as we would like. As the member, I have to stump up a large sum
Q. Re getting away from bores at drinks parties (Dear Mary, 20 May). I take issue with the idea that you even need to give an excuse. I usually just say: ‘Great to see you but I suppose you and I had better circulate now.’ — E.G., Wiltshire A. You are quite right. After all,
Q. My mother always told me that only boring people are bored. However she never got stuck at a drinks party discussing the pros and cons of HS2 or the impact of Crossrail on people’s commute. What is the best way of extricating oneself from a painfully dull conversation? Getting a drink is dangerous (they’ll
Q. My 23-year-old son has taught himself to play the piano, learning the theme tune to The Truman Show without lessons. But it is the only thing that he has learned, and now he plays it every time he walks through our hall, driving the whole family mad. How can I end this purgatory without
Q. I have a very good cleaner who comes once a week. She is far more efficient than anyone I’ve had in the past. But recently she has begun taking off her shoes and socks at the front door and cleaning in her bare feet, which I find utterly disgusting. How do I ask her
Q. New colleagues invited us to lunch but didn’t warn us that the clippings had not been cleared up from a blackthorn hedge that lines their private drive. The next day we had two flat tyres. With established friends we would ring up and give them an earful, but we don’t know how this couple
Q. May I pass on a tip to readers wishing to reject a hopeful romantic partner without hurting their feelings? I recently made an overture towards a friend I have long admired. At first I was hurt when he confessed he didn’t return my feelings. However, he said the reason he didn’t see me in
Q. My aunt lives in a small market town with narrow roads and limited parking. A neighbour opposite acquired a large and gruesome camper van and parked it right outside her front door. The neighbour was polite enough to ask, and my aunt was polite enough to say that, of course, it was no problem.
A friend of a friend hosted an engagement party in a London hotel. Invitations had gone out six weeks beforehand, and no expense was spared. They had planned it to be an ultra lavish event to please even the most critical and spoiled of their friends. However, between the hours of 4 p.m. and 7
Q. As an artist I’m indebted to my sponsor. I also like him, but not his habit of ringing me up when he has friends in the room, asking me to describe, for example, a party I’ve recently been to and then putting me on loudspeaker. It’s a good thing that he considers me to
Q. We had some people up from London for a very long weekend. We put on an extra-special do, costing a lot of money (even hiring an after-dinner concert pianist), all for the benefit of one particular couple. This was eight weeks ago yet — despite being of the age group who knows how to
Q. Living in a large house in the country within striking distance of a motorway, we get a lot of people calling in on their way elsewhere. We love it. We are particularly glad to see one busy and successful friend who is often passing and also needs a bed. The problem is he is
Q. Most of my friends have small children and being mostly media types in west London, have given them silly names: Zedechiah, Tiger etc. I’m used to that. What is driving me up the wall is that some of them have begun to use the definite article before referring to their offspring. As in: ‘I’ll
