Court Short

I try very hard not to judge but other people can be strange (see previous entry for example)
Today the Three Choirs Festival came to Great Witley. The festival happens every year in one of three cities (Hereford, Worcester and Gloucester) and their surrounding areas and attracts folks from all over the country. For today's event "Trills and Thrills" a performance of recorder and harpsichord people had come in huge numbers. So many it was a sell out of 200+ and needed a parking steward.
And it was sunny.
The concert started at 11 so we opened early and served coffees and scones and cake, took orders and bookings for lunches.
Anyway.
My lovely dog, Jess, stays at the back of the tearooms when she's with me.
Shortly before 1pm she started barking. That meant there was someone somewhere they shouldn't oughta be so I went out to check. Close to the corner I could see a coat on the floor and as I made my way forward I spotted a bag. On the floor.
I said: "Hello?"
"Please don't look," came the reply from a woman in, I'd guess, her seventies, "I'm going to the toilet."
Stunned.
"We do have toilets inside." I said.
I left her to it.

T Cup

Another lovely day, despite the weather forecast. It rained but not til late afternoon and not until we'd served dozens of ploughmans, quiches, ham salads and jacket spuds.
When we're busy we have a system to help us find people. We give them a numbered wooden spoon when they order, and ask them to listen out for their number to be called.
This gives rise to a number of (repeated) conversations:

I give a middle aged gent the number 18.
He says: "how did you know my age?"

I give a couple number 6.
He/she says: Is it six or nine?
I say: Hold it upside down and you might get a better order

I give a family number 42. We talk about the meaning of life. The children look bemused.
I give a man number 46. He says. That's funny, that's our house number.
Etc etc etc.
I never tire of it. People often pretend they're going to use the spoons as a weapon or they make some comment about stirring.
Today was a surprise.
I handed a woman Number 38.
"oh how funny, " she said, "that's my bra size"

Courage

It was a gloriously sunny, warm day.
A Dutch couple came in this afternoon for tea. They were spending a few days in this part of the world before moving on. They couldn't pronounce where they were going, just pointed to the map: Betws-y-Coed. I attempted a pronunciation (bets-er-coyd?) but told them they'd hear many different variations until they got there.
I told them how lovely it was that they were seeing so much of Britain.
She said it was her husband's first time here:
"I couldn't get him to come to the UK before," she sighed, "he thinks it rains all the time".

Hope they haven't seen the forecast for tomorrow.
Hope they brought an umbrella.

The rub of the green

The first people in today? A married couple who ordered coffee.
We had a chat, knew a few of the same people from a former life and he gave me his card.
His name? Chris Green.
Her name? Theresa.
She kept her maiden name.
Unsurprisingly.

Another hero for the list.

Someone was smiling on me today.
The weather (forecast earlier in the week as rain) was glorious and I began to worry that if today was the same as yesterday I wouldn't have enough staff. I called around and couldn't find any extra help. I left one message.
A lady called Helen who comes in from time to time for a double shot cappuccino (with extra hot milk and extra froth) arrived at about 11. We chatted for a few minutes and I mithered about staff. She said she was going for a walk after her coffee and went to sit in the garden.
Granny arrived to take my boys to see Captain America. A few others came for a lot of filter coffee and a fair few portions of cake (favourite today was Apple Shortcake).
Then Helen came back. Would I like her to help? She could wash up, clear tables, take trays?
I thought about it.
For about two minutes.
And so Helen spent four hours with us. And the message I'd left was returned as well so we had enough people and it was a lovely day and everyone was smiling and happy and the only downer of the day was that we had FIVE jacket potatoes left over.

Captain America was in 3D.
Turns out Granny hasn't seen a 3D film since the fifties.
She couldn't remember which one that was.

Fruit and Veg

So many cold drinks. So many ice creams. And ice lollies. And bags of crisps.
Even on a hot day like today we sold out of soup (courgette, watercress and celery) and jacket potatoes. We've been brought courgettes from Peter in the village so I sense this year may the second glut in a row. Great for us, and for our chocolate courgette cake which was a real favoutite last season.

I've never known us get through so much cream. It's always been offered with scones (which are flying out of the door on tiered stands) but we're also now serving it with the strawberries and raspberries. I've had to up my order for tomorrow. And cross my fingers.

One couple today told me they came because we'd been recommended by an Italian they met on holiday. In Italy.
That doesn't happen every day.

Irony knee

A lovely busy day which had promised little when we woke to overcast skies. Still it stayed dry and when lunch started it really started. We had two birthdays. A woman I'd not met before had a pecan brownie to celebrate hers. A man who comes regularly made his eightieth birthday extra special by having lunch and a piece of raspberry and coconut slice.
Freda limped in this afternoon to ask if Mary could work on Wednesday in her place. She told us that yesterday she went to her local church healing service.
And injured her knee.
You couldn't make it up.