August arrived. And we were very busy.
I opened early, prompted by a call from a historic car club who wanted coffee at 1030. As they (15 of them) sat down in the garden a large group of older lycra-clad male cyclists arrived. Tea and cake for all of them. And could I get the drive straightened out cos the bumps hurt their bums? They'd come more often if the pot-holes weren't there.
Some very old friends I'd not seen for 20 years came for lunch and really got into planning what I should do with the place. They were proposing jazz quartets and twinkly lights and evening soirées. And weddings.
On Friday when I went from one table (a man planning the wake this Friday for his mother - 50 people) to a second (a young couple asking if they could hold their wedding reception here in September 2011) to a call from yet another group wanting to book for last night, the 'phone rang again. Nancie said not to answer it: "It'll be Obama," she said, "He'll want to book the tea rooms for the next G8 summit."
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