I’M standing at the ironing board, moving my arm and the iron back and fore without a lot of enthusiasm, and wondering not for the first time how I would explain this activity to, say, an alien.

Hello, I’d say, if there was a knock on the back door and I saw a green man standing outside, waiting for the chance to see what human beings actually got up to when they’re not sending space probes and radio messages to outer space to find evidence that they are not alone.

Come on in, I’d continue, and he could edge his way past the potted plants so I could show him life in a typical 21st century Earthling’s home.

This, I would say, pointing at the pile of clean washing, is what we wear to keep warm. Yes, I know lace sleeves don’t look very warm, and now you mention it they’re not, but we wear them anyway. I don’t know why. However, first we need to push this hot piece of metal over the garment to get rid of those wrinkly things called creases…

No, creases aren’t dangerous. They just shouldn’t be seen on clothes. No, I don’t know why, either. No, you can’t touch the metal bit… it’s hot, which is dangerous. And don’t step back like that… You’ll trip over the pot… Oh, too late…

Yes, I’m not sure why we keep plants inside the house. Not when there are so many of them outside. Here, let me help you up…

What do you mean, do my fingers hurt? Ah, no that’s supposed to be there. No, not blood, it’s nail polish. I’ve put it on there on purpose. Yes, it’s actually trickier than it may look, too. You have to put it on sparingly and slowly, in lots of layers, and wait a bit for each layer to dry before you start the next one. And then not touch anything for ages, so it doesn’t smudge. After a few days, you rub it all off, and start again. Yes, honestly, Yes, I know. Put like that it does sound a bit mad. But honestly, there must be something to be said for it. Some people will even pay other people to do it for them. No, I’m not sure why, either. It’s a sort of tradition thing.

Would you like a sit down and something to drink? I have a bottle of wine – that’s a magic drug that makes everything in the universe suddenly seem a lot clearer for a couple of hours – in the fridge, which is a thing that keeps things cold enough to stop them tasting of anything nice, or indeed anything at all.

Ah, that thing you’re looking at is a newspaper. No, we don’t write it ourselves, those scribblings are just where we’ve been having a go at the sudoko and the quick crossword. For the sudoko you have to fill in numbers so that every box and every line has every number from one to nine in it, without doubling up the numbers anywhere. Ah, you’re looking interested… but no, sorry, I don’t think it’s a secret code, or some scientific formula. I think it just is a sudoku. You just work out how to fill it in. Then you, er, fill it in.

Yes, to my mind the crossword is a lot more interesting. The sudoku’s my husband’s territory, the crossword is more mine. Quick? Well, quick compared to say a cryptic one, which is generally beyond me. How quick? Well, it can take me half an hour, or two days. Depends. What do you mean, it’s like a sudoku but easier? Yes, OK, so it’s filling in the grid with the right words, but at least you end up with something you can read. Not a load of random numbers. No, no, it doesn’t have an actual use after that though. You’re right.

“Do you realise that you’re talking to yourself,” says my husband, coming in from the hall.

“Had a good day?”

“Very productive,” I assure him.

“Absolutely stellar. Now how about you pour me a glass of wine, and start on your shirts…”