My feet hurt. Today the third 16 year old came for a trial run, and I'm not sure he enjoyed himself quite so much as the girls did. He was thrown into the deep end, with Sara and I calling out encouraging words as he swam through tray delivery, washing up, putting away, clearing tables, wiping tables et al to get to the other side. Poor boy. Still I expect he learnt something - that he did not want to wind up working in a tea room so he'd better do well in his A levels.
An old school friend turned up. She said she'd heard very good things about us. A couple from Queensland wrote in the visitors' book: "a home from home, magnificent service". Now off to soak my feet and prepare for Concert Suppers tomorrow evening (3 courses for 8 people ahead of a concert in the Church). For which I'm missing the Dr Who finale. Grrrr.
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