I SEEM to spend a lot of time cleaning up nowadays. An awful lot.

And it seems to be always for someone else's benefit.

It's not that I begrudge living in a tidy house, but cleaning duties are usually confined to once a month.

On the given day (usually a Sunday) myself and the Long Suffering Marjorie will roll up our sleeves, arm ourselves with a weapon of choice (for her a duster and can of polish. For me a dustpan and brush) and do battle with dirt and grime with great gusto.

Recently, however, the cleaning rota has changed -- and not for the better.

The last week alone has seen me take up arms four times. And not with great gusto. I am, indeed, battle-weary.

The reason for this sudden increase is guests. Last weekend the Folks journeyed up from Sunny Rochdale to see how their favourite (and only) son was faring.

Naturally, I had to bring forward the scheduled monthly clean, which wasn't due for another three weeks, for such a visit. The night, incidentally, went quite well. A worrying sign and a further indication that my best years are behind me as I plough on to becoming 30 in less than two years.

Even as they were tearing back down the M6 I was preparing the house for the next guest, who was due to check in the very next day.

This guest was an old work pal so my initial instinct was just to leave things the way they were. The Folks had not left the room in a mess and the bedding was put on just for them, but the LSM was having none of it.

Before I knew it (because it was my friend) I was changing pillow cases, washing sheets, and vacuuming a perfectly clean bedroom floor.

I was also made to tidy the rest of the house, including the bathroom, shattering a long-held belief that toilets cleaned themselves, or at the very last were taken care of by the toilet fairies.

Apparently the LSM has been cleaning it every week since we moved in. I wonder who used to clean it when I lived at home?

Must have been those toilet fairies!

The guest came and went without so much of a mention at how clean his sheets were and how clean the toilet was (must have the fairies himself) and so I could relax.

The next visitor due to check in at Hotel Jamie is not due until tonight.

My sister -- obviously taking the lead from the Folks -- is due up tonight, having invited herself up for the weekend.

But instead of setting down my arsenal of cleaning products and taking up, say a PlayStation 2 controller instead for a day or two, I was forced into battle once again.