Soirée

When I say soirée, I mean a bowl of honey roasted cashews and some elderflower cordial, with me perched on a dining chair facing my new neighbours Andy and Sandy from upstairs, who were testing out my sofa. This definitely signals the start of an adult approach to hosting. I've never laid out nibbles before apart from boiled sweets. And I've never before considered mood lighting and background music (Elton John) in advance of guests arriving.

Andy and Sandra are great eggs with interesting lives. We didn't unleash our full political views at the inaugural soirée but enough was said to lead me to think we'll get on famously. We are going to try and get a residents association formed to force the property management company to be the least inept version of itself that it can be. And because there has already been drug dealing spotted in the corridor.

My soirées will increase in sophistication when I have more comfortable seating and blinds instead of pieces of cardboard. I'm not sure drug addicts have soirées but my place does look like a crack den from the outside.