Rules is Rules

My father came to have coffee in the garden this morning.
To see how I’m getting on, check out the gazebos and generally lend me support.
He sat with people he knows who happened to have turned up at the same time.
He’s 85 and was wearing a mask, although by the time I took out his coffee his mask was under his chin as he happily chatted away.
I told him he wasn’t really far enough away from Nancie, that the two of them should be two metres apart.
He said it was fine, he was a metre away which was now allowed.
“It’s one metre only with other factors in place, for example if you’re wearing a mask,” I wagged my finger at him, “and you’re NOT wearing it, it’s NOT over your mouth and nose.”
As I said this to him I glanced towards another table where a man was sitting watching me, an eyebrow raised.
I felt I had to explain that I didn’t berate all customers like this.
Just my dad.

We have just completed day five of this strange new season and I think (hope) I’m getting the hang of it.
Today a man refused to give his name and telephone number for contact tracing.
He walked away when I asked for his details.
And missed out on a fine scone.

Stick to the willows, please.

We have set up seven gazebos in the garden to give our visitors either shelter from the rain or protection from the sun, whichever brand of summer this year brings.
Unfortunately I hadn’t really factored in the wind.
This morning I arrived to find one of them buckled and on its knees.
I took a few steps forward before looking left, steeling myself to see the damage done to the ones on the former tennis court. Joy. They were still standing.
There was another victim of the wind though. The cough screen, bought at great expense to adorn the table at the door (now a makeshift counter) took off during a particularly violent gust.
Tomorrow I shall be trying to glue it back together.

(Re) Open for Business

The first day was something of a relief.
It’s a relief to be open again.
A relief to see customers.
A relief that they didn’t come in great numbers but instead in a slow and steady trickle which we could manage.
A relief that the new systems worked well for the most part and that we have chance to think about anything that needs tweaking.
A relief that everyone who came was grateful, supportive and understanding. And amusing.
I started the day with a knot of anxiety in my stomach and ended it laughing about this photo sent by a customer with the comment, “a variation on a masked ball”:

Begin Again

Planning for reopening this year is like opening for that very first time in 2010.
With plenty of added issues.
My head is spinning with thoughts of social distancing measures, reduced menus, hand sanitizer, cough screens, floor stickers, one-way systems, work stations, takeaway paraphernalia, ventilation, masks, gloves, hours, rotas, signs.
We have no real idea how many staff we’ll need but we definitely can’t do things the way we’re used to.

Last season on any given dry day we’d have 4 or 5 staff, squeezing past each other in the bottlenecks, the cry of “sorry” or “excuse me” ringing out every few seconds. People reaching across each other for cutlery, sauces, cups and saucers, sugar bowls and milk jugs; two or three people working on the same order so that we could get it out quickly.
In the small kitchen there’d be three people at three close stations making sandwiches, panini, salads, jacket potatoes, talking to each other to make sure they were working in unison.
Two steps away on the other side of the room would be 2 or 3 people bringing in trays, washing up, loading the steam washers, putting things away, passing each other constantly, swapping roles, often called to help take out orders.
This is the way we have done it for ten years. It’s like a bee hive. Everyone knows or learns how it works.

Now we have a very different challenge.
Once we reopen on Saturday 4th July we’ll be feeling our way for the first week or two.
Deep breath...

Bloomin’ lovely

 

We didn’t have to wait too long.

This is a Clivia. It graces our tearooms conservatory and is a glorious colour. 

Hope

The promise of something fabulous 1/4/2020

A longer break

Today is supposed to be the first day of the new season. Instead we have no idea when we’ll be reopening because of a global pandemic of Coronavirus.
A few weeks ago I was wrestling with the government advice as it stood then. Should I partially open and allow people to sit in the tearooms garden, far enough apart to be safe but still able to be sociable? Or was it right instead to close and not give anyone a place to meet and potentially pass on the virus. I thought about it day and night and the rights and wrongs of both.
Then the decision was made for me. I imagine it will be months until we reopen.

There is life still at the tearooms but not the human kind.
Last weekend my family walked up and brought out the twenty plus agapanthus plants which had been inside the conservatory over the winter months.
I shall visit from time to time on foot as I don’t live far. I’ll check out what’s in bloom and may even post a few pictures of what we’d usually be seeing.
We can make our own cup of tea and sit in our own home and enjoy the garden and the conservatory from a different perspective.