Q. I often have the most fascinating dreams. These are not just run-of-the-mill dreams about flying or losing your teeth, but really amazing blockbusters which go on for hours and hours. Naturally I want to share these riveting nocturnal experiences with others, but I always find that when I try to recount them, while they
Q. A very stylish woman with a much-admired house happened to drop into my rather dark cottage. She advised me that I should paint the inside of my fireplace white: it would look much better than the current black hole effect and would also reflect light. It seems such a good idea that I suspect
Q. I give a young guns’ shoot for my childrens’ twentysomething friends every year and make a house party of it— it is an essential part of this very extravagant weekend that guests come to both the shoot and the dinner afterwards. This is fine for those staying; but I have found recently that one
Q. As chairman of the parish council, I am required, along with a local member of the aristocracy, to judge the best red, white and blue outfit and the best hat at the forthcoming village Diamond Jubilee celebration. The potential diplomatic pitfalls are legion. I have thought of saying that I have, during the occasion,
Q. My wife was a recovering alcoholic. Now she is a lapsed recovering alcoholic. After three years of sobriety she has taken up the bottle again. I feel that if only she could hear the foul-mouthed and irrational tirades she delivers when under the influence, she might go back onto the wagon. I have recorded
Q. I am a very busy person. Consequently I find it maddening when I am talking to someone on the telephone and I realise that they are not concentrating on what I have to say, but instead are staring at their computer screen. A case in point is a younger friend who is a junior
Q. Any more tips on how a lonely bachelor can improve his social life? Your recent advice that I should send out a round-robin email saying ‘I’ve had the all-clear’ backfired. I did get loads of calls but many of them were from people who assumed I had been suffering from an STD. — E.W.,
Q. My husband and I are at loggerheads. One of the buildings he owns has become vacant and he has planning consent for change of use to a pub. On the one hand we very much need the money. On the other I dread the drunkenness and yobbery it would bring. Can you rule, Mary?
Q. A couple of weeks ago, on a Sunday morning, the Idler Academy arranged that there would be a ‘signing’ for my book. The Idler emailed the thousand idlers on their list and the headmaster’s mother came up from Oxford to help control the crowds. Two people turned up, both of whom were old friends.
Q. A friend had a glamorous book launch to which I was not invited but which was all over the papers. Since I regularly review books, this exclusion seems pointed. The implication is that I am no longer considered glamorous myself and she would not wish to be conflated with me in any review. What
Q. How can I road-test a potential lodger? I am under pressure from old friends who know that I live alone and am away a lot, and also that I have a spare room with a bathroom in my central London flat. They all seem to have children who cannot find anywhere affordable to live
Q. I went to lunch in the new house of a rather competitive woman. We have friends in common, without being particular friends ourselves. After lunch she showed me round this (slightly overblown) new mansion in Kensington and I was amazed to see two bathrooms off her marital bedroom. Naturally I enthused, out of politeness,
Q. A bachelor colleague is in great demand as a spare man. He often regales us with details of the fascinating people he has met at dinner. Our view is that he should occasionally have people back, but he seems to feel that, as everyone knows he has no one at home to cook, he
Q. At a recent social event my wife and I were lucky enough to be guests of a dear friend who had also asked some dozen others. We started the evening as a party in a bar and, as 7.15 p.m. approached and we got ready to leave, I noticed that none of our party,
Q. A friend has asked me to a small birthday dinner, but she has also, unwittingly, asked a man with whom I have an embarrassing issue. In a nutshell, he invited me on a date and then didn’t call on the day or since. I have met someone else so I am not bitter. But
Q. How, without causing offence, can you stop someone sitting next to you on an aeroplane or train from talking to you all the way through the journey? I find this often happens to me, and once you engage it is hard to bring the conversation to a close. I count on these journeys as
Q. When our daughter, who has a wheat allergy, comes up to stay for weekends or hols with her husband and children, my wife takes a lot of trouble ordering wheat-free loaves from a special source in our nearby town. These are then collected by my wife and pointed out to all present as being
Q. Recently my wife and I received a thank you letter from ‘John and Kate’ giving an address in Pimlico. They wrote to thank us for a picture of roses that ‘we’ had given them for a wedding present. My mother-in-law painted beautifully and often chose roses. My wife and I racked our brains to
Q. We have a friend in her late sixties who has been a widow for ten years. Over that period of time we have asked her to many social occasions at our home. She has never asked us to her house. It’s reached a stage where we are starting to feel that maybe we shouldn’t
Q. How should one discourage a fellow diner from helping himself too greedily from a dish you are enjoying yourself? A writer friend invited me to lunch in the River Room at the Savoy Hotel. The treat was only marred when the pudding course arrived: ‘opalys white chocolate jelly sphere’. This was a thin chocolate