The coach party came at 1130 with Liam, the driver. They were on a mystery tour and many of them asked where they were.
I was nervous about the afternoon event. 50 parents coming from 3.30, then the 10 schoolkids giving the recital at 4.30 (what happened to jelly boy? - he didn't make himself known) plus other people unaware of what was going on in the Church, just out for a Bank Holiday weekend. It went by in a blur: 50 cups, 50 saucers, dozens of pieces of cake and 27 scones, jam and cream. Not a penny changed hands - all free to the families, paid for by the organising committee. Every plate and every cake fork were in use. And in the midst of this a woman demanding hot chocolate, "I don't drink tea, coffee or squash" she said, "and nor does my daughter". I apologised but suggested, gesturing at the queue, and the lack of places left to sit, that we were too busy to accommodate her needs. So she went to Nancie and said I'd ok'd it. Nancie is made of stronger stuff than that, but stopped short of suggesting she should have brought a flask.
We ran out of milk again. We have some now, but the garage in the village doesn't.
No comments:
Post a Comment