If my house were a person I would consider it a bit of a Joan Collins - getting on in years but still attractive and well-maintained.
True, it celebrated its 100th birthday last year but it has been given several facelifts and numerous lashings of paint in the past two decades.
Despite all this, it now seems my house would be regarded as something of an old biddy - a fussy maiden aunt or old-fashioned granny - if I were ever visited by one of those house style gurus such as Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen.
Flicking through the weekend papers I came across a supplement on homes, other people's homes.
These, of course, are the sort of homes where dog hairs and potato peelings are never seen, where the smell of burnt toast or boiling cabbage never invades your nostrils.
Turning the pages, I was led over stripped floors covered with wool rugs, through kitchens that could have graced a five-star hotel and into bathrooms that sparkled and shimmered.
Bad but not quite bad enough. What followed was a list of DOs and DON'Ts to help you achieve the same state of unlived in perfection.
Much to my chagrin, carpets, Artex ceilings and coloured bathroom suites were all deeply despised.
Come across any house with these outdated fixtures and fittings, we were told, and it probably belonged to an elderly woman who was either a widow, or who had never married and therefore never known the joys of having a DIY Man About the House.
Well, in my life there have been a few men (including a husband) but not one that has been capable of doing anything more challenging than changing a light bulb.
Not surprisingly, therefore, I live in a house with carpeted floors, a coloured bathroom suite - and net curtains. Yes, net curtains, the sort which elderly people twitch to watch their neighbours.
According to the style fascists, net curtains were so outdated that if you hung on to them for a couple more years they might even come back into fashion.
Blinds and voile drapes were recommended instead for an instant dash of sophistication. Hurrah! I couldn't cope with ceilings, floors and bathrooms but blinds or voile drapes held no terrors.
I found my tape measure and started measuring the living room windows.
The Mother, who was watching the world go by from behind the net curtains, was anxious to know why - and to offer her advice once she knew my plans.
Net Curtains equal Old Fashioned she was told. "Says who?" The Mother demanded, looking quite alarmed at the prospect of having her beloved nets replaced by blinds. "A house looks bare, it loses all its character without net curtains at the windows."
I hadn't expected such a passionate response.
"We have to move with the times," I said. "It's either window blinds or a new bathroom suite. Put your money where your mouth is!"
That silenced her - but not for long.
"Blinds will collect dust," she said. "Net curtains can be washed and nothing looks or smells nicer than freshly washed nets billowing at an open window."
"Not in January," I said.
The Mother continued to look aggrieved. Suddenly I realised why. "Got it!" I said. "If the net curtains go, your twitching days will have come to an end."
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