Limbering up.

That's it for another season then.
The weather has been exceptionally kind and has no doubt helped us to have a very good run. All those bright, sunny, hot Bank Holidays back in April, our first wedding in June, tweaks to the menu, the introduction of the Afternoon Tea for Two, serving raspberries and strawberries in china teacups, the early asparagus season, a lady having a wee in the garden. Ah, the memories.
We reopen March 23rd 2012, but before then I have a lot to plan, to do. It's all a bit daunting - how can I make next season even better? And will I make the Olympic team?

Living in the Future

Now it's a proper November.
Saturday was fine, and we had a lovely lot of visitors eating their way through quiche and cake. Yesterday was cold, grey and foggy which made for a very quiet day and made me think that if next year's November is cold and wet I shall think twice about opening.

Another large party of 40 has booked in for tea in July 2012.

What's in a name?

A good day. Another coach booking, this time for July - 50+ for tea and scones.
Plenty of cake eaters and coffee drinkers and a group of 16 friends at 3 o'clock for afternoon teas.
I'm intrigued by a spam artist who's choosing to approach me using the name "Margeret Higginbottom" presumably because it sounds so terribly English and harmless. But would "Margeret" really spell her name in that way? Oh do come on.

Twenty Twelve

In the past week I've taken bookings for a coach party in May, another in June and a 40-strong group visit for afternoon tea in September.
I've had to buy a diary for next year.
This has prompted me to scratch my head about what we should be doing for a] the Diamond Jubilee and b] the Olympics.
And we haven't even closed for the Winter yet.

Sunday was busier than Saturday. Much.
It was one of those perfect bright, crisp autumn days. It's rained ever since but it looks like it might dry up for the weekend. How lucky?

Remember, remember.

Today went well. A dozen or so photographers wanted teacakes and coffee, then a few regulars and some first timers came for lunch. Whole place empty by 3.15.
Not too much leftover cake, and no staff panic.
Here's to tomorrow.

Into the unknown

I'm off to the tea rooms now to de-halloween it.
Tomorrow is the new dawn: a November opening.
It could be disastrous and noone will come. Bright side: lots of leftover cake.
It could be brilliant and really busy. Downside: not enough staff, not enough milk, bread, cake, ham, quiche.
I won't know til I've tried it.


I've remembered another tale from my Speed Awareness Course earlier this week. This one from Australia.
A driver doing less than the speed limit was flashed by a mobile camera in a layby. He was incensed, knowing he hadn't been speeding. He turned the car round and went past again, still below the limit. Another flash. More anger. So he turned the car and did it again. Same outcome. After the fourth time he pulled over and went to speak to the man in the van to ask why he'd been flashed when he wasn't speeding? "You weren't wearing your seatbelt," came the reply. And he lost his licence.

An eye opener

Today I spent 4 hours on a Speed Awareness Course offered in some areas as an alternative to points on a licence and a fine. (Cost of course = £80)

Among many other things covered we were asked what excuses we might give an officer of the law for our excessive speed. All, of course, were pretty laughable.
The instructor told us the tale of a hospital consultant who didn't even stop. He just wound down his window and dangled his stethoscope out of it.
The police pulled up alongside him and dangled handcuffs out of theirs.

36 in a 30, in case you're interested.
And not proud.

Saturday

The chill in the air yesterday meant a hot chocolate frenzy. An order for 3 was followed by an order for 5 then a respite of just one and then SEVEN hot chocolates. Which left us scrabbling around for mugs.
In the lunch department this was mirrored by the demand for ham and cheddar panini.
And Witches' Brew Soup (pumpkin, onion, garlic, pinch of cumin, pinch of cinnamon).
Spooky how everyone wanted the same thing.

A far, far better thing

Monday was our annual day trip to France (involves three days away - don't ask) and this year was one of the very best of the past nine. We've created this tradition with mates and it means we have enough wine to last til - ooh, next weekend.
The tea rooms were busy on Monday but fairly calm on Tuesday so I had no idea what to expect from yesterday. I'd advertised locally that we were hosting a jewellery and accessories sale, and I'd sent a few emails. Fi from Elements brought her autumn collection of jewellery and bags and my mate Clare brought her knitting. She sat in the corner like Mme Defarge and turned out short frilly scarves which sold like hot cakes. Fortunately so did the cooler cakes, and the soup, and the panini. And the jewellery as always.
Today it's pouring down from a gloomy sky.
I was told when I started out in business all that time ago (20 months) that one should always have a contingency plan for when the worst weather happened.
So I went to the pub for lunch with Mme Defarge and our families.

Tricky

Saturday was international visitors day.
We had folks from France, South Africa, Holland, Colombia and the USA. Most everyone spoke brilliant English but one thing made me realise just what a difficult language we have. One of the Dutch ladies asked us for a plowmans (pronounced as in BLOW) and then a very pleasant young French man, doing a work placement in Burton on Trent, ordered "three quiche and a pluff-mans".
His pronunciation of "quiche" was ok I suppose.
Though through enough thought and practice he might learn hough to say plough.

Wicked

I've started to make cobweb cakes, I've ordered some pumpkin-shaped biscuits from Angela, I've got to look out my recipe for Witches' Brew soup.
Friday is set aside to decorate the tearooms.
I've asked my neighbour to carve a couple of pumpkins for me - she's got skill and patience in abundance. Last year she carved a wolf's face, a haunted house and a witch on a broomstick. Put my two triangle eyes, odd-shaped nose and huge, tooth-filled mouth (on the pumpkin) to shame.
I never used to like Halloween (or is it Hallowe'en?) but the scope for fun is just too great to resist.

It's oh so quiet.

I expected the same of Sunday as I'd had on Saturday. After all, the weather was pretty similar. Ah foolish me.
It was not busy by any reckoning. I now have the awful problem of lots of leftover cake.
Of course the lack of busy-ness meant the remaining older dishwasher was able to cope all too well.
Trying to get the new one fixed before half term.

Crossed Wires

It began a lovely bright, chilly autumn day and warmed up significantly in the afternoon.
The coach party went well. We'd had a call from the driver, Mike, en route from Cheshire to tell us what everyone wanted to eat: soup and sandwiches. He also said that a few of them had brought their own lunches but may want tea and cake...
"That's fine of course," I said, "so long as they know that we don't allow people to eat their own food in the tea rooms."
Silence.
There are picnic areas in the Court, or they can eat on the coach," I continued, "and I did mention this yesterday to the coach company."
"I didn't know any of that," Mike said, "and I don't know what to tell them. How are they going to eat their soup?"
Once the confusion had been recognised we laughed about it.

I had lots of pleasant conversations with visitors - about the china, the weather, the Church, the plants, the Winter closing.
And then someone said: "Well if we don't see you before, have a nice Christmas."

Crossing the Floor

A good week drinking other people's lattes and eating other people's cake.
There are some really lovely places around here. Yesterday I went to a rural pub which has been converted into a café - lovely coffee (x2), homemade apple cake (x 1) and a big dark leather sofa to chat on.
I could get used to the other side of the counter.

In a Jam

I thought I'd got away with a season without many breakages, apart from the occasional dropped tray and chipped cup.
I had just commented how lucky I'd been compared to last season.
I should never ever say such things out loud.
On Saturday the soup blender went CLICK, tripped the electrics and refused to work again. However it's done sterling work and has paid its dues.
On Sunday the dishwasher I bought last year started making a dreadful noise and burning smell. I had expected its sterling work to continue for a lot longer...
Not brilliant things to happen just before a coach party on Saturday.

The Great Witley WI ladies laughed at my stories and clapped at the end. What more could I ask? I ended with the tale of the woman who went to the toilet in the garden (9th August). It made one woman's jaw drop. Literally.

Lost

We had the "flat white" thing again.
Two Australian ladies and a Brit came. Brit wanted tea (God bless 'er). One Aussie asked for a "large flat white".
"I know what that is," I said, checking, "it's a two-shot latte with foam."
"No," she said, "I just want a black coffee that I'll put some cold milk into. That's a flat white."
I'm confused.
Still, they left very nice comments in the visitors' book.


A pleasant day when folks came in waves.
The last wave was a group of about a dozen walkers carrying backpacks who all had tea and cake. I took one man his order and told him their timing was very good, they'd made it to us half an hour before we closed.
He looked up:
"I've no idea where I am" he said.

To Diet For

Today has been lovely. The weather wasn't brilliant, but the people it brought to us were fabulous. We haven't been too busy, but neither were we too quiet, so it's been an easy-going sort of a day. Among the lovely people were a couple from the Isle of Wight. They first came in June apparently and had our Afternoon Tea special. Today they approached the counter with confidence. They didn't ask if they could have coffee instead of tea with the AT deal, they KNEW they could. What's more, en route from North Wales to Somerset, they had made a radical detour to come again. I forced them to write in the Visitors' Book.
Two other nice comments today:
"The ploughmans was spot-on"
and
"Scones to die for".
Let's hope Saturday hasn't swallowed up all the lovely people and that some have been left for Sunday.

Something else I learned today. A dog that looks like a red setter and isn't is probably a flat coated retriever (I won't make that mistake again).
It's the breed that won Crufts you know.

WI speech still needs lots of work.

The Beginning of the End (of the season)

The colour's back in his cheeks and my hair.
The appendix remains in situ.
Tomorrow it's back to work preparing for the weekend.
I'll do a big shop then cook a ham and roast some veggies for the panini and try to sort anything else that we'd ordinarily have on an ongoing basis in the fridge. Like grated cheese.
I might even bake a lemon drizzle cake if I can remember how.
I'd forgotten how tricky this end-of-season, weekend-opening, lark can be.

And it's my WI talk on Monday....

A real pain

It was my first proper day off yesterday, so I sent my son to school with stomach ache, took the dog for a loooong walk and sat around reading the parish magazine and looking forward to my long-awaited hair appointment this morning.
This morning I cancelled the hair appointment when the doctor told me there's a 50/50 chance he has appendicitis.

Running Out (of steam?)

The hot & sunny weather lasted all weekend which meant it felt a little like a Bank Holiday.
On Saturday we ran out of ham for the first time ever.
Orders came for so many ham salads, ham and cheddar panini and ham sandwiches that the great big gammon we'd cooked dwindled to nothing.
On Sunday we ran out of granary bread.
I opened today. Usually when October comes we're only open at weekends but the forecast was so good I couldn't bear the thought of all those Court and Church visitors wandering around in need of tea and cake on a beautiful sunny afternoon.
Am shattered now and refusing to check the weather forecast.
Any visitors tomorrow will have to bring a flask.

The last day of September

This very strange, hot and sunny weather continues.
Everyone who came sat in the garden today.
Everyone was in a good mood.
Most everyone drank tea and no-one appeared in any sort of hurry.
A man called Ray wrote in the visitors' book: "I want to live here."
That made us all smile.

A numbers game

"Two teas, twice please."
"So that's four teas?"
"Well," he said, "there are three of us."
"So you'd like three teas?"
"Yes, please."

QI

Two questions which have stumped me recently.
Both from customers.
1. "Is there any fruit in the Apple Cake?"
2. "Is your cheese vegetarian?"
Turns out some cheeses aren't. Use of rennet in the process apparently.
So I've checked and our cheese is indeed vegetarian.
And yes, there's fruit in the apple cake (he meant sultanas).


Very busy today. Back to high summer. 24 degrees and almost everyone sitting outside. I had to call in two extra people when it became clear the rush was going to last way beyond a normal lunchtime.
We're supposed to close during the week from Monday but if this weather is going to continue I might just cook another ham* and keep my fingers crossed...


*not vegetarian

Happy Mondays

This morning the church warden came in to see us.
He was a little bemused.
He'd just been speaking to a couple in the Church.
"We don't like Baroque" they told him, as they gazed around the interior with wrinkled noses. He urged them to look at the monument near the altar.
"It's too ornate" they commented.
As they were leaving he suggested they visit the tea rooms.
"We don't do tea" they said.

Shine, shine on

Veeeerrrrryyyy quiet today.
We started well. Lots of groups and couples for coffee. But then the rain arrived and the people departed.
This afternoon it brightened up and all talk was of this week's forecast heatwave.
I really hope it happens. It will be a lovely way to end the 7-day-week part of the season.
But I'll believe it when I feel it.

Turn and Face the Strain

A change has occurred. A big change.
I've decided not to close at the end of October but to plough on for weekends in November.
Why?
Because at some point I should try to find out whether there's any demand for us in the colder months, and now's as good a time as any.
And because English Heritage is only opening Witley Court at weekends. In previous years they've been open during the week and they're expecting their new hours will mean more visitors at weekends...
So it'll mean a change to our menu. Out with the salads and sandwiches, in with the comfort food.
I have another one of those knots in my stomach.

Cheek

I am blessed (?) with what is known as "rosy cheeks". I've always had them.
Apparently it's a sign of good health but anyone involved in the make-up or facial business puts their head on one side and looks, well, a little too sorry for me.
Last week when I delivered a tray of goodies to two couples in the conservatory one of the men startled me by saying:
"My dear, you have a lovely complexion."
I was just trying to think of a suitable response when he added:
"Or are you just hot?"

Macs

Thank goodness for the Caradoc and Severn Valley Field Club.
Without them today would have been a wash out.
With them we had a party of 25-plus to fill with coffee, then lunch, then tea. And in between they dodged the showers, toured the Court and had a talk in the Church.
Except for one 97 year old lady who chose to stay warm and dry inside with us.
Tomorrow's meant to be brighter but the summer has certainly gone.
We have only the rest of this month of 7-day opening.
The end of the season is fast approaching.

In cider dealing

Don't let anyone say I don't know how to use a day off.
After all I've definitely had more days away from the tea rooms than I did last season.
So today, after opening up, this is what I did:
1. went to the cash and carry for mayonnaise and brown envelopes
2. walked the dog

3. paired socks (a lot of socks)
4. hid the unpartnered socks at the bottom of the ironing pile
5. added the yeast to my husband's homemade cider (as instructed)

I also ordered a goose for Michaelmas from the finest goose producers in the kingdom (Goodman's Geese) who happen to live in the village.
Delia and Jamie can't be wrong.

The way forward.

I've just seen on another tearooms website that they're offering "a large battered teacake".
Should we do that?

Allegro

Last night we ran the last of the season's concert suppers. When there's an evening concert in the Church we offer three course meals to ticket holders who book.
Sometimes it's well attended and sometimes it isn't.
Last night we had only eight booked in.
Then we took a call from a lady in Ludlow.
There were 20 of them coming on a coach. Would we be open for tea and cake?
Of course, I said, thinking how really quiet we'd be without them.
As we were preparing for their arrival a few members of the orchestra began to drift in after finishing their rehearsal.....
"We've come for our sandwiches and cake," they said.
Nothing had been booked. We were not expecting them.
They drifted out again looking bemused.
Minutes later they were back led by a woman with a credit card:
"Cock up," she said and asked if we could do fifteen rounds of sandwiches and teas.
Pronto.
The main room filled up, and then the Ludlow posse arrived.
Man were we busy.
I loved it.

Cheap Shot

Pleasant but quieter than yesterday.
The Little Dolphins returned after their Summer break (toddler-swimming up the road, and then they come for lunch). Fortunately I'd remembered so we had enough jacket potatoes to go round. The mums were also gathering to fill in a questionnaire for a forensic psychologist's top-up PhD.
She has three kids, two jobs and still has time to top up her PhD.
I have two kids, one job for half the year and I still can't finish the ironing.
A woman bought one of our birdboxes - the shape and colour of a post box.
Not the size of one. Obviously.
She'd mulled over the purchase during lunch worried she wouldn't get it into her suitcase. She lives in Switzerland.
"How nice," I said.
"I like it round here" she replied.
A couple walked out in disgust at the price of a pot of tea and an americano coffee (£4).
Another couple wrote in the visitors' book what great food, service and value for money they felt they'd had.

Jinxed

A top ten day.
Smashing weather, lovely people and noone came til I was ready for them.
We had some seriously nice messages in the visitors book among them one from a fella from Dudley who positively RAVED about Sara's ability to make cappuccinos.
He said he'd had them all over the world (including Italy) and hers was the best.
Although ideally it would have been stronger.
We couldn't froth the milk for toffee after that.

Coached

Opened up and left to take older son to the dentist.
On my return I rang in.
"Is everything alright?" I lazily asked.
"NO IT ISN'T" came the reply, "WE'VE HAD A COACH PARTY TURN UP".
I was there in three minutes (the joy of living very close by) but the panic was all over by then. The unexpected coach had now departed after lunch and there were just a few tables with people at them, among them a young man who looked battered and bruised.
He said he'd been playing rugby for the past two days.
I advised him to give it up.
He looked at me as if I'd gone mad.
I came home again once we were on top of the clearing up.
A man phoned to book in a coach for June 2012.
Now that's more like it.

A Trial

It's bloomin' windy.
I opened up this morning and am now enjoying a day away from the tea rooms.
Doing what?
Organising the busman's holiday that is our annual staff trip to have a lovely Afternoon Tea made and served by someone else.
I say "annual" but of course this is only the second year.
Last year we went to Oxford (The Old Parsonage).
This year the chosen (by me) destination is Cheltenham.
We shall go once our tea rooms has closed for the Winter and judge someone else's scones.
I'm trying to decide between the Hotel du Vin and The Daffodil but I may have to indulge in a recce....

Before the Storm

Saturday's over.
And the rain's here.
The day had been promising. Lunch time visitors sat in the garden. Those on the court tours spread themselves through the main room and outside, eating us out of cheese scones.
The rain arrived as the bride and groom finished having their photographs taken. On the plus side there were lots of men in kilts.
The 106 who were invited to the reception came in for prearranged tea.
Those who weren't invited, but who'd come to witness the ceremony, came in too for...tea and cake. Thus we were busy at both ends of the tea room for a hectic 45 minutes.
The bride sat in the conservatory on her own after everyone had left. Enjoying the quiet.
Then she left for the reception.

Botox?

My younger son started High School this week.
He told his new history teacher that he had an older brother at the school.
"Let me guess," said the history teacher, "does his name begin with a J?"
"Yes," my son replied.
"And does your granny run the tearooms in Great Witley?"

I do

Tomorrow could be interesting.
It's the local fete so I've lost lots of staff (they're all SO community minded).
We have a coach of 23 coming for lunch.
There are 3 booked-up tours of the Court through the day.
And then, at 4, a wedding party. The bride and groom had asked for tea, coffee, scones and cake for 100 people.
But.
This week I've been told there may be 200 at the ceremony.
Eek.
Do I feel worried?

Day of the Foxtrot

Two ladies came at 11.20 and sat chatting in the conservatory with coffee, soup and millionaire's shortbread.
They were the only people with us for AGES.
I busied myself trying to work out how on earth my new phone works.
One of the ladies ordered a second cappuccino.
After delivering it I went back to my phone (out of sight I hasten to add).
Then. Oh my. One couple, then another, then a group of 5 for lunch, two soups here, two teacakes there, suddenly we were full and I was racing from main room to kitchen to conservatory trying to set another filter going and make hot chocolates while taking another order and preparing panini.
As quickly as it started it stopped.
We cleared up and were out by 5.30.
My phone remains a mystery.


Overheard last week from an English Heritage staff member who'd just completed a check of the site and fountain and was relaying bad news via his 2-way radio:
"The nereids aren't even dribbling."
I had to look it up.

When is a Wednesday...?

It's a tricky week. The kids are back at school. It's raining. It's cold.
People come, but not in numbers.
There is a silver lining.
It means I get to read the Teme Valley Times.
A pile of TVTs started appearing at the tea rooms as if by magic this season. I never see anyone arrive with the bundle of them. Someone leaves them on the side table in the conservatory and then disappears without even a mention.
The paper is remarkably popular. Often a couple will grab TWO copies on their way to their table and are engrossed when their tea is delivered.
I haven't had many opportunities to go much beyond the front page until this issue.

On page 3 is a piece about the local jobs bus not arriving at its designated spot when it's meant to - that is one Wednesday a month.
There's a 3 paragraph preamble about it and then this, which I re-read four times:
"Early this year the Teme Valley Times received complaints that the bus wasn't turning up. We have finally got to the bottom of this. The key is simple: the bus does NOT come on the 4th Wednesday of each month. For example, during the first three months of 2011, the bus came on the 4th Wednesday of January, and it came twice in March (but not on the 4th Wednesday) while it didn't come at all in February."

I haven't got further than page 3 yet.

Whipped

I delivered an afternoon tea to a table of 5 on Sunday.
One man leaned back in his chair, gestured at the cream and said:
"Is that squirty or clotted?"
"Neither," I replied.
He made a noise which was a sort of laugh. There was definitely a superiority about it.
I think it's the closest I've come to hearing someone snort with derision.
"What do you mean by neither?" he snorted (with derision - getting the hang of this now)
I answered that if by "squirty" he meant the cream which comes in a can and is squirted out, then it wasn't that. And it wasn't clotted either.
"What is it then?" (the incredulity remained in his voice)
"It's whipped double cream from Mawley Town Farm in Cleobury Mortimer" I answered, giving him the very best information I had.
"Ah," he said, all pleasantness itself, "that's good". And then went on to criticise semi-skimmed and skimmed milk.

He came in as he was leaving to compliment us on our scones.
I told him they were home made.
"I knew it," he said.

Warm glow.

I didn't take my cardigan off today.
This shows two things:
1. It was cool enough this morning to warrant a cardigan and the temperature didn't change.
2. We weren't busy. I didn't run into the kitchen and outside like a mad thing raising my core body temperature enough to need to remove a layer of clothing.

A second mystery shopper report came today. Very pleasing.

On egg shells

A very pleasing Bank Hol Monday.
Not the sunniest or warmest but busy nevertheless. I called in extra family help when folks started ordering lunches at 11.30. We did a roaring trade in panini and jacket potatoes, lattes and hot chocolates. And soup (courgette and tomato).
And cake, of course. Apple cake and Mystery cake took the honours for the day.
There were lovely comments in the visitors' book.
Among them a double act entry from Rebecca & Mum.
Rebecca wrote: The best quiche I have ever tasted.
Mum added: Thanks, what does that say about the quiche I make?

Learning from Madonna

I've been away this week. We went to Yorkshire for some unexpected sunshine. We were forecast rain and instead we did York and Malton and Whitby and Brimham Rocks and Malham in T-shirts. Lovely.
At Malham we had afternoon tea. Had to test out the scones and the idea that in Yorkshire if you order fruit cake they give you a piece of cheese with it. They didn't. But the scones were great.
On the walk to the cove I was thinking about next season (only a few weeks of this one left) and how to make changes without, well, changing. Sort of like Madonna. We need to reinvent ourselves every so often without alienating the core audience who will always love a bit of Vogue and Papa Don't Preach.
I'm not suggesting noisettes d'agneau just yet, but would the Get-Into-the-Groovers like a Pork Pie Platter to play alongside the jolly successful Lightwood Cheddar Ploughmans?

In other news I've been asked to give a talk to the local WI on the lighter side of running a tea rooms.

In hot water.

When we serve tea we deliver two pots to the table. One of tea and one of hot water so that either you can make your tea the strength you'd like it or top up the teapot for an extra cup.
This afternoon a woman strode into the kitchen bearing the hot water pot.
"You forgot to put the teabag in" she said.

Last week a young couple called Eileen over to their table as she was clearing plates.
They were students, about to go off to university.
They felt their education was incomplete.
"We have to ask," they said and gestured at the extra-hot-water pot, "What is this for?"

Pickle

For the first time in weeks people came in complaining of the cold today.
They wanted soup and jacket potatoes. They wanted the door closed in the conservatory. They wanted to sit INSIDE. We took delivery of the chocolate and beetroot brownies. One lady thought the beetroot was cherry.
A man trying to guess the mystery ingredient in the Mystery Cake (courgette, remember?) asked if it was gherkin.....
Said he'd once been given some chocolate and gherkin cake. Now of course gherkin and courgette aren't a million miles apart, but I could only think of the pickled ones my dad used to eat in large numbers.
An 89 year old lady who'd been brought out for her birthday said she was "knocked out" by the experience. Said she didn't know why all her friends wanted to go to Weston on a charabanc. It was full of children. And old people.

Knit Wit

So yesterday nothing was billed and EVERYONE in the world decided to come.
Today we had booked in two coach parties (70 people) three minibuses (20 people + 18 carers) and a knit'n'natter group of 13. Only about a third of the 70 showed up, the minibuses were done and dusted by 12 and the knit'n'natter group's orders for tea and cake (mainly coffee and walnut) weren't difficult. Except in the delivery:
"Coffee and walnut?" asked Jennifer
"No, mine's tea and walnut" came the reply.

I had WAY too many staff on today.
We stood and compared the AS level results of the five 17-year-old members of staff.
We even ate lunch at a reasonable time.
And we cooked too many jacket spuds.
The forecast torrential rain failed to show up but the thought of it was enough to deter.
My family is off to the Green Man festival tomorrow leaving me with the dog for the weekend.

Now wash your hands

The mystery cake continues its success. I'm always astonished that people will order something even when they're not certain of the ingredients. It's obviously a chocolate cake but, as we tell everyone, it has a mystery ingredient to identify (courgette). People guess at nutmeg, chilli, beetroot, cinnamon, almonds...
Over the weekend I delivered a slice to a table. The woman who'd ordered it was otherwise engaged at the time. Her daughter just wanted to check something as her mother had an allergy:
"The mystery ingredient," she asked, "it's not marmite is it?"

Yesterday someone wrote their name, their address and the date in the visitors' book. And then under comments wrote "quite interesting".
What was quite interesting? The Court? The Church? The quiche?
Someone else wrote "Toilets - excellent hygiene"

Hitting the right note

The Mystery Cake** is back. And going down very well.
Overheard this morning:
"She's already complaining that she's got to sing second soprano."
"But he won't stand for that."
"No, he certainly won't."

(**chocolate and courgette. Shhh)

Never a dull moment.

I sauntered in yesterday, expecting a quiet-ish day.
Mistake.
50+ members of the Kerry (Wales) Silver Threads group arrived by coach at midday to see Witley Court and they came to us for coffee, cake and lunch. And then tea. They left at 4pm.
They formed a very orderly queue at the counter having parked five blue walking frames in the entrance. They also left a very lovely message in the visitors' book.
I went to collect my boys from football camp and suffered yet another flat tyre, ending up walking back to the tea rooms for the clearing up session.
And today my son becomes a teenager.

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.

Cream crackered

The cream is all gone.
On raspberries.
On strawberries.
On scones.
In filter coffee.
And I'm exhausted.
As is my friend Jo on her annual trip to Worcestershire.
She reckons she's walked the garden at least a hundred times today calling out table numbers and delivering orders.
She'll sleep well tonight.

Never did run smooth

It's happened. I've been asked for a "flat white" coffee. A cyclist couple arrived in need of cake (they had two pieces each). She wanted tea. He coffee. I thought I'd better check before I made my first one - what is it? "Dunno" he said, "just make whatever, it'll be fine". I'm certain what I made him was not, in fact, a flat white which I now think is pretty much a double-shot frothy latte. But he drank it.
The first person through the door yesterday made me laugh. He was wearing a Tshirt which said: There are three types of people in this world, those who can count and those who can't.

Then in late afternoon, the event of the day:
A girl left her 'phone number on a piece of paper on one of the tables. It was addressed to "the blonde haired waiter" and signed from "the girl in the blue shirt". Unfortunately for her we have two blonde 17 year old waiters, both of whom were working yesterday.
She's going to have to be more specific.

Cold hard cash

My big brother came for coffee today. We sat outside together (until the volume of people streaming in forced me to abandon him) and talked. He's just sort of retired but starts a new job on Tuesday. And he wouldn't have anything to eat because he's on some weird diet that doesn't allow cake.
Many a family came today and there was not one particular thing they favoured. We made mountains of sandwiches, quiche, ploughman's, ham salad and paninis. And we had to cook another ham. I think that's the fourth day in a row.
Ice cream delivery comes tomorrow (we're out of mint choc chip and are low on the other 4 flavours) and with luck more pressés too (no ginger beer or elderflower left).
Two little girls cleaned tables with their face wipes at going home time and helped me put the tables to bed. Their mum sent them in for their wages - a Just Scrummy ice lolly.

Blood and guts

Another first.
This morning I cleared up someone's, well, there's no delicate way of saying it, vomit.
When I arrive to open up in the morning the dog has a run around outside the gate. I found the offending pile on the way up to the Church and thought it wouldn't be a very welcome sight to those wending their way to us for scones. Or quiche.
Such was my state of mind after the operation that when I left to pick up red onions and mozzarella I forgot to leave any money in the till.
And that's another thing.
We are well served in our rural land by plenty of village stores and post offices. They sell lots of fab stuff, not just basics. In our properly local PO and stores you can get your dry cleaning done and pick up an Indian Balti.
But none of them stock mozzarella.
I had to drive 12 miles for four balls this morning.
Another lovely, busy day where the sunshine meant everyone ate in the garden. One man had ham salad and then bought four slices to take home.
I sliced into my thumb as I tried to slice the ham.
Blue plasters r us.

Rocky Road?

Today there were five of us working. We had extra tables outside - the conservatory was a no-go area because of the heat. A couple of ladies were among the first in. They sat at the end of the garden and drank coffee. Then they had lunch. Then they bought plants and left. We reckon they stayed chatting for about 3 hours.
We had a group of twelve from a care-in-the-home company in Shropshire coming to the Court and then to us for lunch. A few were in wheelchairs but they made it down the bumpy drive for their day trip and to the Church for a 15 minute talk on its history. They were going from us to a river cruise in Stourport.
I've put up my bread order cos we're using SO much. Today was sandwich city, and we ran out of paninis. And soup.
Only had to ask one person not to smoke today. Hurray.
Visitors' Book message: HOME COOKED HAM - BEAUTIFUL.
Written by someone called Sly.

Count on Us.

Today had the feel of a Bank Holiday. People came all day and dragged all the outside tables into the shade. They ate an entire apple cake, victoria sponge, chocolate cake, one and a half coffee and walnut, one and a quarter toffee cakes, a carrot cake plus chocolate brownies, cherry and almond slices and trays full of scones. We almost ran out of cream. We did run out of granary bread, but only just before finishing lunches so it wasn't too awful. I got by on a wing and prayer with limited change. There's always someone with a pocketful of pound coins if you ask.
A very pleasant group of ten booked a table inside for lunch. They stayed for hours, mainly because when they asked for their bill I had a queue of people and couldn't get to the adding up.
We're now serving local raspberries and strawberries and cream (when we haven't run out) - in bone china tea cups and saucers. Am exceptionally proud of the way they look.

High School Blues

Today is my last day of primary school. Have just done my last primary school run. As of September I shall pack off two boys in black blazers at 8am and they'll get off the school bus at 4, thus extending my day by 2 hours. This is a good thing. But I feel terrible. Bereft. Sad. Older.

Arty Party Day

The 44 members of the Weston Super Mare National Trust Association arrived for coffee and cake and to see the Church. They were lovely, raved about the scones, and left us with a warm fuzzy feeling and an empty tea room. Then 8 ladies arrived for lunch and we grew busier and busier.
Then an art group of about a dozen ladies arrived, set up in the garden unannounced and ordered apple juice. One apple juice. I went to speak to the organiser to suggest that in future they might let us know they're coming (so we can ensure we have a bottle of apple juice). She said they come every year. Though not last year because the weather was poor.
The day finished with a group of ten staff from a local primary who did come last year and who had booked. And they had lots of tea and cake.

Blink and it's scone.

On Sunday we had another first. We catered a ten-year-old's birthday party. He and ten of his mates sat in the conservatory and wolfed down sandwiches, mini sausages, crisps, cucumber and carrot batons (that's the preferred term) and cake. His mum had also brought a birthday cake she'd made herself which was pretty impressive. It was a frog sitting by a pond eating a butterfly. And when the cake was cut out fell some wiggly jelly worms. Boys' heaven. All went well and they adjourned outside with a bucket and some sticks and string to make some enormous bubbles. They can definitely come again.
Tomorrow morning we're opening early for a coach party from Weston Super Mare. They'd like coffee. For 44. They're coming in two shifts. 22 will have a talk in the church while 22 drink and eat, then they'll pass on the path and swap roles. And then they'll be on their way to the next point of interest. Full of scones.

A light snack

An elderly gentleman came in at the weekend.
He was on his own, and moved very slowly. And spoke very slowly.
"I'd like a cup of tea please," he said.
"And a piece of the fruit cake" he added.
I asked where he would like to sit?
"And a piece of Victoria Sponge," he said.
"And a piece of the Raspberry and Coconut Slice."
He waved to the table near the entrance and said he would sit there.
I delivered his three cakes.
He really wasn't at all interested in the tea.

Not the only fruit.

This may not be everyone's idea of exciting but my little orange tree (given to me March 2010 as an opening gift) has teenytiny little green oranges on it. Lots of them. And more flowers. Seems it loves the conservatory. All day I've been dragging any customers who show any interest at all to see it and marvel at it.
It had been suggested that these ornamental trees only fruit once (and it had lots of oranges on it when it arrived) so now I feel like Alan Titchmarsh.
Credit where credit is due - my Dad (who does have green fingers. And tennis elbow) looked after it during the Winter.

72 teas

Yesterday we were set to host a high tea for 34 visiting exchange students from China at 3.30. We laid out all the mismatched cups and saucers and tea plates and were awaiting their arrival so that we could cut all the crustless sandwiches when we became VERY busy in the main tea room. Two teas, two teacakes, four teas, afternoon tea for 2, scones, cake, two teas etc etc. It dawned on me that this was no ordinary tea time rush. It turned out to be coach party of 38 who hadn't mentioned they were coming. As the orders stacked up and the Chinese arrrived I NEARLY took my pinny off. I NEARLY cried. Instead I phoned Sara and said "help". She arrived within minutes. A friend indeed. My son arrived back from school and was also thrown into clearing tables, folding napkins and everything else. Two more heroes for my file.

Dairy-free and smoke-free

A coach party from Cheltenham came today. We knew they were coming but only had a rough idea of what they might like to eat, phoned in from the bus en route (which is better than not knowing anything at all). We like them enormously. They were pleasant, complimentary and they drank lots of tea and didn't ask for cappuccinos in the middle of the lunchtime rush.
The smokers were out in force in the garden today. Two middle aged couples ordered americanos (two decaf) and when I delivered them there were two packets of cigs on their table. I told them that we don't allow smoking. One woman had just lit up: "I'll put it out," she said, "but please let me just have a couple of drags."
They came back for lunch.
Claire answered my desperate late night text and brought me more gluten-free banana cake this lunchtime.
Two more dairy-free folks came today. Either word is spreading or the notice on the board is encouraging more people to ask for it. Who'd have thought?

...and Emotional.

I wasn't at the tea rooms this weekend.
On Saturday evening I went to see the final Take That concert at Wembley with 83,000 other women and 6 men. Two of whom were the Pet Shop Boys.
I spent Saturday night at my friend Jane's house, then Sunday morning chatting with her and lovely friends over the last ever copy of the News of the World and a latte.
Then I left.
I hadn't driven far when I discovered (cyclist banging on the window) that I had a flat tyre, so I limped to a garage and rang a friend for help. He said he'd get on his motorbike and would be with me in 15 mins.
I waited. Located the spare tyre. Located the jack. Located the silver thing to take the nuts off. Or something.
Then a young man from Essex called Slee (I even asked him to repeat it) strode over:
"The mrs has told me I've got to help," he announced. I thanked him, said I did have help coming but would be grateful if he could start the job as I didn't have a clue (which may have been obvious).
His "mrs", Kayleigh, joined me as we watched Slee work his magic. He'd changed another woman's tyre just two weeks' ago, he said.
Gosh, aren't we women useless, we thought.
Where is my friend? I wondered.
Slee was just finishing putting all the kit back under the thingy in the boot when the motorbike turned up.
Kayleigh gasped: "That's...."
"Adrian" I said, "yes".
Adrian Chiles took his bright yellow helmet off and didn't look too displeased that he didn't, after all, have to change my tyre. Kayleigh shook his hand and smiled. Slee, while waving a hello at him, told me to watch out for my back tyre as well, and then walked off.
Seconds later (and after what I imagine was a brief conversation in their car where the obvious was pointed out) Slee pulled up alongside us, handed through the window a pen and a used envelope to Adrian, said he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed who he was and asked for his autograph. Adrian wrote "To The Good Samaritan" and signed it. Slee jumped out of the car, handed me his 'phone with a smashed screen, and asked if I'd take their picture.
And so it was that two very tall men stood side by side in a car park, beaming.
I wish I had that photo. They were both my hero yesterday.
Thanks Slee, Thanks Ade.

Free Cake

Well.
Today must have been a record in the -free department. Gluten- and dairy- that is.
This morning a woman ordered a gluten-free banana cake. She wasn't coeliac, nor even intolerant. She had visited before with someone who had a piece and she thought it looked nice.
As she left she bumped into two friends and mentioned it to them. Neither of them had any medical need for a gluten-free cake either but BOTH ordered it, and then bought two extra pieces to take home. WHAT IS GOING ON?
Two people asked for dairy-free today too and went for the carrot, orange and sultana. The feedback on it is astonishingly good.
But don't tell those ladies masquerading as coeliacs.

Pale green

The weather didn't look good for today but we had a party of ten booked in for lunch so I knew it wouldn't be a wash-out.
As it turned out we were rather busier than I'd expected. We took the first lunch order (ham on granary, smoked salmon and cream cheese on granary, cheddar on granary) at 10.45. Then soup orders started at 1130.
What did for the planning though was the arrival of a small coach party (unannounced) AT THE SAME TIME as the expected party of ten. It was a heads-down-and-plough-on lunchtime. Sara warned those ordering lunch that there would be a delay, so when I arrived at their table bearing gifts on a tray I was greeted by gasps of joy - "that was much quicker than we thought". Thank goodness.
Today was also dairy-free day. Two people within half an hour of each other. Both very appreciative of the raspberry and dark chocolate muffins.
Here's a question which foxes us most days - should one serve milk with green tea?

Three for a Girl

This morning when I opened up there were THREE magpies in the conservatory. They're pretty big birds but they can only have come in through the skylights. Clearly bird brained. I opened the double doors. One slammed itself against one of the panes then hopped out (with a mis-shapen beak). The other two hid in the fig tree and had to be shepherded (can one shepherd a magpie?) towards the door.
This afternoon 17 students of Spanish and their Chilean teacher came for High Tea.
Next week we have 32 Chinese visitors.
Tea can bridge most any cultural divide.

A week to remember

I haven't written much recently so here's my week in a nutshell.
On Tuesday after school my 11 year old son and two school friends found a man's body in the local fishing pool.
On Thursday afternoon my 12 year old son (off school due to teachers' strike) put his hand through a pane of glass. The window came off worse.
So this weekend - Friday coach party, Saturday High Tea x 44 (Birmingham Bach Choir) + 6 x tables for Concert Suppers, Sunday post-wedding tea & cake for 60 - has been a welcome relief from what-will-my-children-shock-me-with-next?
Big tea rooms news.
We now serve dairy-free cake.
Raspberry and dark chocolate muffins.
And from next week the gluten-free orange and carrot will also be dairy-free.
Hah.

Top Tip

This week we've scaled new heights.
The Garden Tea Rooms is mentioned in Best of British magazine for July (issue out now) in a feature on Tip Top Tea Rooms.
And it's on the same page as Bettys.

Tea stands still for no man

The marquee has gone.
The bunting's been taken away along with the flowers in wellies.
There are just a few bits and bobs to be collected by the Bride's family and then it will all have been a lovely, tiring dream.
Onward now to next weekend which is looking particularly busy:
Friday - 44 people from Wendover on a coach. Coming for lunch.
Saturday - 41 High Teas for the Birmingham Bach Choir plus 5 x booked tables for three-course concert suppers.
Sunday - opening early. Sixty people coming for a morning-after-the-wedding Afternoon Tea. Groom is Canadian, bride is (I think) South African, so I'm expecting lots of folks from far away lands and at least one person from Plymouth.

Raise your Glass

Post wedding. Almost. The marquee is yet to come down as the blokes who are meant to be doing the dismantling broke down on the A1 this afternoon. Still it meant that lots of the tea rooms visitors got to look inside what is a pretty fab structure. I spoke to plenty of people about the wedding today. Most conversations started with them asking what the tent was there for, then saying "Oh, I didn't know you did weddings here". Two different women said the idea of a High Tea wedding made them want to get married again...
How did it go? Very, very well. We were happy. They were happy. Two of my 17 year old staff said they wanted their wedding to be just like it. The 19 year old bride said it was even better than the wedding she'd pictured. The father of the groom even went to the trouble of thanking all those behind the scenes - that'll include the three people frantically buttering (or cream cheesing) the bread, making the sandwiches, cutting them into the different shapes I'd demanded and filling the tiered cake stands - all at the last minute so they were as fresh as they could possibly be. Who likes curling, drying sandwiches. That's right. Noone.
It also includes all those people (including my Dad, who's claiming he's got tennis elbow. I've told him he can't get it from watching Wimbledon) who washed and dried 110 teaplates during the speeches so that they could go back onto the tables ready for the scones and cake. Yes I did have enough plates for both courses - but I don't like some of them. I wanted to use my premier plates. They also washed around 480 glasses - high balls, tumblers, wines and flutes, 110 teacups, 110 saucers, 110 pastry forks etc etc etc.
Enough wedding.
For now.
Customer of the day was the man who came in while his wife was preparing to sing in the Church recital. He ordered apple cake and a glass of milk and said it was his birthday.
As he was leaving he told me his wife doesn't like drinking milk, and doesn't really like him drinking it either. So that was his real birthday treat. Not the cake.

Even more in tents

The marquee is up. And decorated.
The bows on the chairs look gorgeous. No, I didn't do any of them. There's ivy wound round the poles with gerberas, lavender and hydrangeas mixed in, there are flowers in jam jars on the tables and flowers in wellies at the entrance. It's been quite a stressful day but I had to laugh when the florist handed me a bunch of chrysanths and some lavender: "if any of them look ropey in the morning can you just stick some of these in" he said, jumped into his van and was gone. Now I can do lots of things but I just can't do flowers. I just don't have... whatever it is. Even a beautiful tied bouquet that just has to be dropped in a vase goes awry if I'm the one doing the dropping.
So tomorrow morning I have to ensure that the cutlery is polished, the tables are set, the drinks are cooled, the jobs are divvied up, the cakes and sandwiches are made and cut, the tiered stands are in place, the quiche is warmed, the scones are made, the cream is whipped and 110 people enjoy the best High Tea we can give them.
Once I've sorted the flowers out obviously.

In tents

Another lovely day. It was groups-of-friends-from-all-over-the-country-meeting-up-day. It meant for large orders and we had to hurriedly make a second batch of soup when the first ran out at 1230.
The bombshell this afternoon came from the marquee company.
They need access to the tea rooms at 0630 tomorrow.
Not only that but they "may need help with the bows on the chairs".
I may need help when this thing is all over.

In other news, our Olympic tickets turn out to be for beach volleyball.
No. Really.
I hope it's the mens.

Jones? Brown? the Tank Engine?

This morning we set out on the ten minute walk to school in lovely sunshine. Half way there it started to rain. By the time we arrived it was dry again.
Ah, one of those days, I thought.
Today was marvellous. Lovely people making lovely comments. The conservatory grew warmer and warmer until it forced the mid afternoon crowd outside. By end of play it was glorious and I allowed myself the hope that the wedding at the weekend will enjoy some sunshine.
A group of four ladies had lunch inside, then went up to see the church and "have a sing", then returned for a proper afternoon tea in the garden. The man who's writing his book brought his laptop, went to the far end of the garden and asked if we'd mind bringing him a latte. We didn't. Mind, that is.
The only downer of the day came when I was bringing the wooden tables and chairs in from outside. At the beginning of the season I bought two sets of beautiful wooden outdoor furniture. Every night we carefully bring them inside to protect them. Every morning we lovingly carry them outside and they are generally the favoured seats.
As I carried them in this evening I noticed the name TOM carved into one table top.
Thanks, Tom.

Fair enough?

Today we had a customer who was very unhappy with us.
She complained vociferously and then wrote in our visitors' book that she is, in fact, disgusted that we offer gluten-free cake but not dairy-free cake. She wrote that this is discrimination against a large number of people in the world.
I'm baffled by her use of the word discrimination. Is it?

Fathers Day Card

48 internatioanl caravan club members came for tea and cake this morning. We poured their tea and had set out individual cakes on tea plates for them to choose. Lots of lovely comments on the apple shortcake. The church congregation came shortly after them which meant the main room and the conservatory were full just before lunch.
We tried out a mackerel paté ploughmans - very popular, but I don't think we'll be doing it all the time. Maybe it should make an occasional appearance. Like a Robbie.
Came close to running out of milk as the Afternoon Tea seekers descended but the cavalry arrived just in time.
One dad and his family came out on Fathers' Day for tea and cake. The kids (older teens) asked for this, that and the other. He waited for one of them to offer to pay. He even sighed and said he didn't have enough cash. "It's ok Dad," said the son after an interminable wait, "You can pay with a card."

Longest Day

The forecast was dreadful and I left the tearooms in capable hands while I attended to a list of other stuff. Most of the way through the list I had a 'phone call. The promised rain hadn't come, but lots of hungry people had. Could I return asap.....?
Of course as soon as soon as I arrived the crowds left and the rain came.
But I have taken two more enquries about large lunch parties next month.
And I have sorted the Concert Supper Menu for tomorrow evening.
And I've made a lemon drizzle cake.
And I have bought my husband an outlandish outfit for a Summer Solstice party this weekend - theme: Druids and Scorchio. (?)

Heaven Scent

Most people look at our Afternoon Tea for Two deal and check that they've read it correctly:
"So it's two scones AND two pieces of cake?" they say, "and the tea. All for £10?"
Others check for small print: "Which cake am I allowed?" Presumably thinking I have some inferior, teeny tiny cakes hidden in the back which I'll gleefully serve them while cackling.
Groups of four order the tea-for-two special and add two teas, saying that scones AND cake is a lot of food. Especially when the cakes aren't teeny tiny. And when the scones are served with jam and cream.
This afternoon two men ordered Afternoon Tea for Two (Cake: 1 x slice Victoria Sponge, 1 x slice of Anna's Fruit Cake). A few minutes after they'd emptied the tiered cake stand of all the goodies they were back. Two more pieces of cake (carrot).
I think they like cake.
They're welcome anytime.
Another VERY busy lunchtime. Ploughmans and quiche proved especially popular.
We have Evening Primrose flowers open in the conservatory. They look and smell fantastic. Can't remember seeing them last year.

In tune, in June

And the pendulum swings the other way.
Yesterday we had an unexpected coach party. A what? Exactly.
Today the sun blazed down and the garden was full to bursting. We started early with a WI artist group who were painting/drawing in the garden, then moved seamlessly into a very busy lunch and teatime. Lovely. But, did I mention, very busy.
I now have enough tea cups and saucers for the wedding. The bride has just sent an email asking if the string quartet can have its tea break during the speeches.
This is all getting VERY close.
I've had another email asking about 33 high teas for the choir performing in church on Saturday evening. And there's another 3-course concert supper menu to put together for the same time.
Best get my head in the game, as High School Musical would have it. Or is that soooo 2006?

Wet

If I ever thought it had rained before I was wrong.
Today it rained and rained and it didn't stop. Only a few hardy (and wet) souls made it to us. Even the usually favoured conservatory proved inhospitable because of the rain hammering down on the glass.
There is a bright side - the trade lull allowed us to wash and count all the vintage cups and saucers for the wedding, to sweep the conservatory, to polish the cutlery, to clear shelves, to check we have enough pastry forks (we don't).
We also managed to make three more three-tiered cake stands.
What do I do with it all when this wedding's over?

Gritted Teeth

Grrr.
Yesterday morning was a bit of a struggle.
People rang the bell for attention when I was in the middle of delivering an order and then didn't know what they wanted.
A woman in the conservatory plucked a lunchbox from her bag and started eating her own sandwiches. A bunch of people who wanted to buy plants put them all on the counter spilling soil as they did so.
By the afternoon I and my anxiety had settled down and we were enjoying it all again.
A pleasant batch of afternoon customers ensured the day returned to normal.
We can all have an off-morning.
She says, defensively.

Be happy.

In just over two weeks we'll be catering our first big wedding - 110 people in a marquee in our garden. It's for this that I've been buying all that china, all those cake stands, all those cups and saucers and teapots.
This morning, many months after first suggesting a range of High Tea sandwiches, mini quiche, mini toad-in-the-hole, scones and cakes, I held a taster session for the bride and groom and bride's mum and dad. If the wedding itself goes as well as this morning did then I'll have no need to worry.
However I reckon I'll start losing sleep about now.
I'll start waking up with questions and concerns in the middle of the night.
I'll write lists of things I must remember to order.
I'll worry that the list is not complete.
I'll wonder whatever possessed me to agree to take on someone's biggest day.
Such is my lot.

The Cavalry

It was wet. It was chilly. It was overcast.
I rang Becky to tell her not to bother to come in.
Thankfully she came anyway to collect paperwork and was in an apron in seconds as family after family arrived ALL AT THE SAME TIME* and ordered quiche, sandwiches, gallons of hot chocolate and lots of cake.
A friend who'd popped in for lunch was also roped in to help for a weirdly busy hour and a half.
And then it stopped.

*my shouting

Trumpet.

English Heritage looks after Witley Court and doesn't have its own tea rooms because they have us. Every year the 'eritage sends in a mystery shopper to test its staff and facilities. And the private eye comes to us too to see how we fare.
We've just had the feedback.
The secret guest ordered tea, cake and a sandwich which they said was "fresh, very tasty and good quality produce." They added: "the food looked appealing and was a good portion size".
Fab.
They commented further: "the café has plenty of space and places to sit, the tables were not close together which was nice".
Great.
My favourite comment (apart from stating that the atmosphere was "chilled out, exactly what I like") was about us: "The staff were clean and tidy, they looked well dressed and did not have any food on their clothes*."
I would so love to be a secret shopper....

*my italics

Un oeuf is enough

It's been a very good few days since the sun returned. Lovely and busy.
Today I woke to rain and expected the worst. Thankfully proved wrong.
People with umbrellas came. They filled the conservatory and the main room and ate jacket potatoes and ham and cheddar panini (see, lesson learnt). Then a coach party of Nottingham Mechanics arrived for tea and cake (they favoured millionaire's shortbread). They were not mechanics. They were a bunch of ladies and gents who formed a group originally one of the many Mechanics Institutes which apparently flourished in the 19th Century.
This morning I rang our local egg farmer to ask for two trays. He brought them straight away including an enormous egg especially for me. I hadn't seen an obviously double-yolk egg for years. Turns out that's because he's not allowed to sell them.

Instant hit.

"I'd like one of those coffees," he said.
Latte? No
Cappuccino? No
Filter? Americano?
"No, no no," he wrinkled his nose, "Too many chemicals. I just want one you spoon into a cup."
Instant?
"That's it," he said.
Sadly for him, of all the coffees we offer instant isn't one of them. A fact of which I'm rather proud. Too many chemicals?
He had a glass of milk. His wife had a hot chocolate.
I hope he bought a jar on his way home.

The good old days

Monday was a wash out. My first awful Bank Holiday.
Still it meant I didn't run out of bread. Or milk.
Today was much better. A group of ten ladies came, parked, went for a walk and then almost to a woman ordered quiche (asparagus and dolcelatte). We had grandparents who were looking after kids on half term, one of whom did that it-was-different-in-my-day thing.
The children were looking in the drinks fridge and the ice cream cabinet.
"Kids today," said grandad, "can't make up their mind."
I smiled and mentioned that there's perhaps more choice these days.
"In my day," gramps continued, "we were told what to have, so it didn't take as long."
Yep. That'll do it.

A singular day

We discovered this morning that we have tickets for an Olympics 2012 event.
We've no idea which one but there are four of us and £71 has been taken from our account so we're pretty doubtful we'll be attending the opening ceremony. To be honest I don't even know what we've applied for and I'm already worried about staffing the day here when I head on down to the smoke to watch the heats of the horse-dancing with ribbons.
I am concerned about something else too.
I am very proud of my menu board. I am pedantic about spelling and grammar and insist that apostrophes will only appear in the correct place in any establishment run by me.
So imagine how distraught I felt when I heard one of my customers suggesting to his partner, as they perused the board, that he might order a "panino".
Of course that makes the plural "panini".
But on my board it says "Paninis".
He said nothing but I knew what he was thinking, and Oh the shame.
The board rubber will be put to use first thing in the morning.

It's a Bank Holiday tomorrow.
The forecast is dreadful.
But that could be misleading.

Here comes the Panini

A gentleman carrying his young son in his arms was among the first in today.
Double espresso and a scone with jam and cream.
His little boy had a bag of Tyrells. Tractor flavour. According to the picture on the packet.
When they left they bought a bracelet for Mummy. I wondered if she was having a much needed Saturday morning lie-in.
Today was the day for soup (asparagus - the last week of the season so the farmer's warned me) and ploughmans lunches. It was not a jacket potato day. I know this because we threw all but one away. Yesterday we couldn't get them in the oven fast enough.
I was asked in-depth questions about the best place to hold a wedding reception by a family who've just booked the church for June next year.
I gave them the benefit of my pretty poor knowledge.
They had paninis and scones (and the solitary jacket spud).
The groom said he'd love to have paninis for his wedding feast...

Ready and Waiting.

Who stood out today?
The woman who said, "Can I be awkward and have a piece of quiche with my soup instead of a roll?"
The man who said, "I'll sit in here. There are children in the other room." He was a bus driver from Twickenham and he says he sees enough kids in his day job. Doesn't want to mix with them on holiday.
The three local ladies who all delivered their ordered cakes and quiche ready for the Bank Holiday weekend.
As I was cutting, covering, finding places for it all (just) it dawned on me that this could be quite a busy time.
I've ordered loads of bread and milk and as far as I can tell I just need to buy apples and cucumbers to be ready for the masses.
Come on down.

Stains scone

It rained. And rained.
I honestly doubted anyone would come. But come they did and they appreciated the warmth of the conservatory and the tomato-and-fresh-basil soup.
Yesterday Fi (who sells lovely jewellery from a display cabinet at the tearooms) suggested some miracle stuff for cleaning vinyls that she has. She also sent other ideas - dettol, kerosene, rotten milk, hairspray. Then the lighter fuel suggestion was mooted. I'm quite getting into the idea of these weird things sorting out a biro stain.
However.
It's gone.
I don't know how.
One of the many things we dabbed on it has worked.
Either that or the elves have been in overnight and changed the cloths around.
Thanks to all the Kims and Aggies who proffered help.
Visitors' Book entry today "Just as lovely as ever" made us smile.
One last week: "V. reasonable" made us laugh.

Pen and Ink

Things go wrong. Things get broken. Things are spilled.
Vinyl table coverings are scribbled on in biro.....
How do I get it out? I've tried all the cleaning products we have but nothing touches it, and it'll be troublesome and expensive to replace it. Obviously it's one of the larger tables.
I hope the U3A coach party coming to us for coffee then lunch tomorrow don't think we're slovenly.
Perhaps I'll ask them if they've any ideas how to remove the offending stain.

Stop. Start.

The suppers went down well. Six tables served. Two booked for future concerts. Result.
Except that I'll have to come up with a different menu now.
First through the door this morning (1015) a couple from Swindon who love the Court and like to use their English Heritage membership often. They're also National Trust members. They like the Trust tearooms (but ours is their favourite) and they love the English Heritage audio tours. And they've just had a new grandchild. Oh and they've just cruised back from the Caribbean. And they've been married 40 years and love asparagus. They had teacakes.
The rest of the day was up and down (please note I didn't say *rollercoaster*).
One minute the five of us stood around with NOTHING to prepare, carry out, clear or wash up, and the next all five were SO busy. I swear groups of customers must've been hiding together round the back of the hedge sniggering. Then someone blew a whistle and they all rushed in. We went from nothing to full in minutes. 0-60 in tea time.
Day off tomorrow.
I might open up and then go back to bed. How decadent?

A time and a place.

Quieter and cooler. Fewer people ventured outside. One couple in late afternoon ordered tea and cake. I suggested that they should sit in the warm, bright conservatory.
Ooh yes, said she, and then went off to spend a penny.
He glanced in the conservatory where there were a few couples. And then he sat in the main tea room. On his own.
I delivered the tray of goodies. Was he sure he wanted to sit in here - it is much nicer next door?
Yes. He was sure.
His wife returned from the ladies, looked at him, and sighed.
When they left I was outside in the garden. I said I hoped they'd had a good time.
Yes, he said with a hangdog look, but I sat in the wrong place.

Some Like It Hot.

Back to blue sky best. There were lots of early birds who came for coffee ahead of a talk in the church. They were from an italianate society (don't know, didn't ask) and they came back for soup and cake.
I've been thrown a curved ball on chilli. Last week when I suggested to someone ordering it as a jacket spud filling that it was "quite fiery" she questioned me. Was it eye wateringly fiery? No, I said. She ordered it and when I asked for feedback she pretty much said "pah, that's not what I call fiery".
Yesterday a lady took one mouthful and brought it back. Too hot, she said, and opted for coleslaw instead.
Today another was making her choice.
"I'd like jacket potato with chilli" she said.
"It's quite hot" said I, my usual mantra. Most people smile and say that's just how they like it.
This lady looked really shocked. And chose something else.
So how hot should a chilli be?
Customers of the day were four lovely, funny, walking-boot-clad mates who arrived in the late afternoon for tea and cake. They weren't local, laughed that they didn't really know where they were and I urged them to visit the Church because it's a sight to behold and they couldn't walk the miles they had, come this close and NOT see it.
Turns out they're all vicars.
The last thing they probably wanted to do was see another church.
But when they left they dutifully turned up the path towards it.

Ask a silly question.

A weird day. It promised to be busy but then suddenly stopped. The afternoon was rescued by a flurry at 3.30 when a horticultural group finished its tour of the Court gardens. Most wanted tea. One of their number tried our new gluten free cake - orange, carrot and sultana. She said she'd certainly be back for more. It's great to be able to offer a choice now to those avoiding wheat. I can't wait til Novak Djokovic next comes in.
When we take orders we always ask where they're planning to sit and then write a note on the order - main, conservatory or o/s for outside - so that we know where to deliver it. One day last week I asked a lady where she'd like her tea. She threw the question to the little girl at her side:
Where would you like to sit? she asked her.
"Next to grandad," she said.
So that's what I wrote.

Secret Supper

I have one eye on Saturday. We have 21 members of the Sinfonia of Birmingham booked in for High Tea at 5.30 before their concert in Witley Church at 7.30. And we'll be serving a 3 course supper to some of their audience from 6.
A 3-course supper of what?
Yet to be decided.
It'll involve local asparagus.
That's as far as I've got.

A new leaf

Before opening up on Saturday I made a quick detour to the library to collect the next Robert Muchamore in the series my 11 year old is reading. And to order the next one.
He sat by the (unlit) log burner in the main tea room all morning until he'd read half of it. That's when I interrupted (dreadful mother, but the next one won't arrive for another week).
So many customers commented on the sight. They asked what he was reading, what it was about, what did he like about it; said they loved reading and how great it was to see a young person engrossed in a book.
Oddly they didn't have same reaction when he brought his games console with him yesterday.

Hitch

The first person through the door was a lady.
"Please tell me you have tea and the Church is open today."
Tick. And tick.
Turns out she'd walked the seven miles from Stourport, almost getting runover in the process. She was doing some course at Oxford which involved baroque stuff and thought she'd walk from her narrow boat, on which she lives for 5 months of the year, to see the baroque Church.
She ordered tea and a teacake and, rather threateningly, said there was no way she was walking back. She'd "hang around looking for a lift".
Friday the 13th was kind to her. Actually my dad was kind to her. He gave her time to see the Church then drove her back via the garage which was servicing his car.
He says he didn't have to say much on the journey.

Do You Know The Way?

I arrived in the rain. Pouring rain. The kind of rain you wouldn't go out into if you could help it. The dog wouldn't get out of the car. Sniffed the air and decided to stay put.
I almost texted Becky to tell her not to bother coming in.
One woman arrived for coffee and a chocolate pecan brownie. She said she was meeting her friend here but couldn't wait for cake. I was grateful. There would be at least 2 customers then.
The rain stopped, the sky brightened, lots of people came for lunch. Thank goodness I hadn't sent that text.
There were all the swimming-toddler-mums sitting outside and drinking cappuccinos and eating quiche. There are a group of about 8 of them. Sometimes they all come, sometimes just 2 or 3, but man do they make a mess (well, the kids do). They're always really lovely and pile the plates together to make it easier for us to clear up. I never mind the state of the table. It reminds me of home. Today there were white chocolate buttons sticking out of the remnants of a jacket-potato-with-beans. And the buttons were smeared with soil and grass so some poor mum had even bothered to pick them up off the floor.
A message in the visitors' book came from someone from near San José, USA.
It read: There's nothing like this in the whole of California.

Fishy request

Day off today, and time to go the library, bank & obligatory charity shop.
Yes. Another pin tray, another teapot. Two more plates.
I was reminded when I opened up this morning of our strangest jacket potato filling-combo yet.
It was yesterday. Sunday lunch.
It was so strange that I thought the order must be wrong. I sought out the 20-something man to check whether Jacket Potato with Tuna Mayonnaise and Chilli really was what he wanted?
Jennifer said this morning that she never had liked that surf 'n' turf.

Salad Shirking

Of the many who ordered our homecooked-ham-salad-with-new-potatoes yesterday, two had amendments to make.
The first was a lady in her thirties: Ham salad please, but forget the salad.
Did she just want the ham and new potatoes? Yep. Can't stand rabbit food, she said.
Not even tomatoes, a little cucumber? I moved gently. Nope. Won't eat it. It would be a waste.
The second was an older man: Ham salad, please. No lettuce.
He would have all the salad except the leaf variety.
Not allowed it, he said. He looked downcast.
He'd cheered up by the time he came back for two slices of coffee and walnut cake.

Young Shoulders

Strange day.
Blue skies, then showers then blue again and a group of sponsored walkers who covered a 6 miles circular walk from the tea rooms.
Apparently the Court featured in the Telegraph gardening section yesterday and in a Times competition a couple of weeks ago. Whatever next?
Overheard this weekend...
Dad: This is the best scone in the world.
Son (aged around 9): How do you know? You haven't tried them all yet.

Dampener

The busy week has just ground to a halt.
I've nipped home to print off the next staff rota because there is just one family of four enjoying paninis as I write (at least I hope they're enjoying them). They came in sodden and complaining that their waterproofs were not.
Yesterday was a favourite day. The warm afternoon brought families in straight from school pick-up. There was a feeling of reunion about the place. Lots of people knew each other and the kids all wanted cake and cheese scones.
A local artist has brought in a print she's done of Lady Rachel. Our garden belonged to the Lady in question when she lived at the Court. Anne (artist) has painted her from a photograph and says she looks terribly sad, though she's tried to perk her up a bit. Anne also told me that Lady Rachel drowned in the Irish Sea.
I'll go back now. The sky is brightening so perhaps a few more folks will venture out....

All the Tea in China

I have to admit to an addiction. It's become clear over the past few months that I can't pass a charity shop without checking whether it has any bone china. At first it was just tea plates. Then it became cake stands (very few and far between), then bread and butter plates.
Then it was entire tea sets, often missing a jug, or a sugar bowl, or with a chipped cup or cracked saucer. I didn't care. I'd buy the lot.
Since the tea rooms reopened on April 1st I haven't been near a hospice shop, or an RSPCA outlet, or an Age Concern boutique. I thought I had it under control.
Today I had a day off. Oh dear. I hit three different towns and four different shops and discover that my addiction is stronger than ever. Now I'm searching the shelves for teapots and, here's a new thing entirely, little pin trays.
The tea paraphernalia I can pass off as a business need. But bone china pin trays?
They're so beautiful though.

To each his own

Another great Bank Holiday when the coffee drinkers came early:
"Are you open yet? I've brought my 92 year old mother" was first in. He thinks the whole country is in better form since the Royal Wedding on Friday.
Then the lunch takers came. I congratulated everyone who came before midday on their wisdom of arriving ahead of the crowd.
Then came the crowd to test my eleven strong team.
The most frustrating customer (who of course is still always right) is the one who stands in the queue waiting for his order to be taken, then when asked doesn't know what he wants. Or the one who sends a small child out at that very moment to ask whether mum wants tea or coffee.
Actually all the customers, without exception, were very pleasant today. One family had even brought rugs to sit on the lawn in case there wasn't an available table. Which there wasn't.
We reunited a pair of glasses with one customer and an ipod touch with another.
Yesterday I heard one woman telling another that redbush tea is disgusting and she can't work out why anyone would want to drink it.
Today a couple told me that they judge a tearoom as good only if it stocks redbush.
Phew.

In Tiers

A Sunday to be reckoned with. Another bright, warm, busy one.
Customers included a couple on an internet date. How do I know?
He came in to order for her and asked whether we had biscuits. I pointed out the little bags of shortbread rounds made by Angela and he looked perplexed:
"Doesn't she like shortbread?" I asked.
"To be honest," said he, "I don't know what she likes."
And told me the story.
There was a request for a decaf earl grey which I couldn't fulfil.
And another to buy six slices of the ham we'd given them for lunch as it was the best they'd ever tasted. Which I could.
We were also visited by the Bride and Groom from our afternoon tea wedding in June together with her mum and dad, sister, grandparents, aunt and uncle and the photographer and his girlfriend. The last time they were at the tea rooms the garden was covered with snow. This time it was in full sunshine and she brought me a photo of a cake which she'd like to have on the day. Two levels of sponge sandwiched with cream, strawberries and blueberries. Looks delicious, very girly and not in the least bit fattening.
I am now getting almost daily requests from people who want to buy our tiered cake stands. Perhaps I should have a sideline....
Tomorrow is yet another Bank Holiday.
I'm going in early, although I sense that even if I were to go in now I wouldn't be fully prepared for what's to come.

Tiara Boom-de-ay

Warm sunny and full of folks, a roasted-vegetable-and-mozzarella-panini day.
I practically bullied two people into going to see the church. My mad eyes, and the way I shrieked "You've GOT to see it now you've come all this way!" probably put them off.
The lovely steady flow of people were served very quickly - I think we're all still on Bank Holiday adrenalin. There were lots of gasps as we approached tables with paninis, quiche, homecooked ham salads and sandwiches just a few minutes after they'd been ordered.
Several groups came for coffee, stayed for lunch then came back for Afternoon Tea, among them a group of 3 ladies who'd known each other since school and who keep a meet-up kitty.
I have no idea what to expect from tomorrow.
It is a Bank Holiday but surely people will have made their Royal Wedding plans and we won't see anyone til 2pm. Nancie has brought in several plastic tiaras for us to wear.
The two new boys will be thrilled.
I have a very bad record on guessing what any single day may hold (apart from tiaras).
I've ordered lots of milk though. Just in case.

Wow

Am just getting over the shock that was Monday.
We need to restock and take stock.
So glad it's ages til the next Bank Holiday.
Oh.

Busy Bees

Aah.
Day three-of-four all over.
We were fine.
It seemed that lunches were not what people wanted, they'd probably got big fat roast lunches and family dinners to attend. What they all wanted was tea. And scones. And the lemon drizzle I got up early to make.
And, bizarrely, cappuccinos.
Another really beautiful and busy sunny day but we all seem to agree that tomorrow will be the biggie. Who wants to cook on Easter Monday?
I do also have a new worry to keep me awake.
Apparently, according to one customer, the masonry bees which circulate around the window of the main room are also partial to stripping the underside of my new wooden tables.
Grrrrr.
Bzzzzz.

Night terrors

After another busy day (Day Two of the Four) I went to bed early but haven't been able to sleep. There were eleven of us on Saturday. For Sunday's operation there'll only be eight - nine if I rope George in. Those extra pairs of hands make all the difference.
Plus I've almost run out of ice cream so George has to make an emergency trip into Bennetts in the morning.
I write this in the hope it clears my head enough to let me sleep.
In fact seeing it written down makes me even more nervous.

A very good Friday.

A message from the local BBC radio station was on the answer phone this morning. Would I speak to them about what people could do at the Court and Church on a sunny Bank Holiday.
It was, of course, a pleasure.
I raved about the fountain and the Easter Trail for the kids, I talked about the Church and told them that Freda was baking fresh scones.
I don't know how many people heard it or whether it had an impact but HUNDREDS of people came today.
Hundreds.
Upon hundreds.
And that was day one of the four-day-weekend.

Thursday - Appley ever after

A couple of days ago a family came for lunch. He was Spanish, she Japanese and their two daughters little, dark haired and gorgeous. They'd come from their home in London and were staying in the very nice hotel in the next village. They shared a large bottle of the apple juice which is made at Mill Orchards in the village.
Yesterday they were first through the doors. They wanted a case of apple juice to take back home to London with them. I only had two bottles but I do like a happy customer so raced down to the village, found the farmer (Peter) on his tractor in the middle of the orchard and forced him back to his store room for a box of twelve bottles of Laxton Fortune juice.
The day took a while to get going but when it did it really did.
I was momentarily stumped by one lady:
"Coffee please" she said.
"Filter?" I ventured.
"Erm"
"Or we also make latte, cappuccino, americano?" I suggested
"Well", she said, "I really only wanted a nescaff".

Where am I?

Ice lollies, ice cream, scones and Ploughman's lunch were the orders of the latest sunny day.
The other sign of really hot weather is the number of egg mayonnaise sandwiches people suddenly have a desire for.
The Bank Holiday weekend looms and we're low on a number of things so I'll be shopping early doors tomorrow. Again.

I was flummoxed by one question today.
A woman came in this afternoon:
"Am I in the right place?" she asked.

Butter scotched

Today was utterly glorious. High Summer in April.
I called in extra staff in anticipation of a busy one and I'm so glad I did.
It was a Ploughmans and sandwich day and a day when I had to tell several people that there may be a longer wait than usual for their order - there were just so many people.
Noone seemed to mind waiting. They sat in the garden, where the wisteria is just starting to bloom, and soaked up the sunshine.
Late in the afternoon a mum with 7-month old Edward asked if we did anything which was dairy free.
I'm really going to have to look into this one - she's the third person in two a half weeks to ask. Surely I can find something better than a bag of crisps.

Minor Rush

Palm Sunday started with a donkey.
The congregation met at the tea rooms together with the Bishop of Worcester. Yes, really.
They started the service in the garden and then sang the short walk up to the Church following a donkey. The bloke who was leading her was a little concerned:
"Will there be someone up there to stop her?" he asked, "because when she starts going, she just goes." The Bishop said that made a change as usually when he does this service the donkey refuses to go anywhere.
When the congregation returned for tea the place was rammed with Morris enthusiasts. Cars, not dancers.
Two different groups had turned up on the same day in their Morris somethings.
And they needed caffeine.

Angela's Apple

The first couple came through the door at 10 unaware that we don't open til 11. They had coffee and tea then walked round the Court and came back for lunch. They were in their thirties and had come from Stratford and she said she wanted to stay forever.
There was a wedding in the Church so some grandly dressed guests came in ahead of the service for cor-fee. They were from Indiana and left the single word "Lovely" in the visitors' book.
We tried out a new cake - apple and honey cake made by Angela who also delivered, for a trial, three little bags of shortbread tied up with ribbon. We'd sold all the cake and all three bags by lunchtime. Am very much looking forward to telling her.
Tomorrow's looking glorious and should be as busy as today so I'll be in bed as soon as the credits roll on BGT.

Extra, extra

The day started with a couple and their grandson ordering two hot cross buns with their coffee. As soon as the toasted buns hit their stomachs they were back at the counter ordering more.
The day finished with a lady, her two young daughters and their dog. They ordered cheese scones all round. And then three more.
That is known as a run on cheese scones.
We have a new egg supplier from Abberley, the next village along from us. The 400 hens move freely around the farm's other main focus: Christmas Trees.
Hence the name - Tree Range.

Pale and interesting

Some really interesting customers today. Among them:
- two people meeting up to compare their family history searches. They'd never met before but think they may share a common ancestor.
- a family from Cumbria. Mum is coeliac and loved the banana cake. I asked her to try the new biscuits I'd been sent samples of. She said they were truly awful and is going to email me the name of a company which makes good ones.
- a Midlands family who apologised for the mess their kids had left and then told me that the original Procul Harem video for A Whiter Shade of Pale was made at Witley Court but wasn't shown because it was cut with footage from the Vietnam War. They later made another video in London.
I've checked. It's on youtube here.
The fountain the fellas are standing in is now fully restored.
Weird seeing it as it was then.

Over and Out

I bought a new filter coffee machine for the busier days. It's a good one but not as user-friendly as our current lady. She can be set up ahead of the first order then as soon as someone wants a filter a flick of the switch will start her flying. But the best thing about her is that if you remove the jug halfway through the brew she stops. Until the jug is replaced. So no-one waits long for a fresh mug.
Mr New Filter wants more attention. You can't set him up. Once he's going he's going and he just doesn't stop. He's a good wing man but not the main machine.
Today the trip switch went. It couldn't be encouraged to come back on.
We traced the problem.
The wing man has got to fly solo tomorrow.

Without a trace

Ita is from Chile, and is very efficient.
This morning we've had two ladies in for tea and hot cross buns (they told me they'd come straight from a weight watching group). They sat in the conservatory and once the buns were finished they came back to the counter for coffee and walnut cake.
By the time they made it back to the table Ita had cleared away their tea.

Paper trail

Honestly, I have to believe in some kind of karma.
No sooner do I write that I've got to grips with the ordering than I run out of....
NAPKINS.
I mean really. How stupid?
And not just once.
Yesterday I was in the last large pack of the napkins, which I buy in bulk. They were on order but not due to be delivered til this afternoon. When I went to pick up the kids from sport camp I bought an eye-wateringly expensive small packet from the local stores, to tide us over. Then Jennifer said she had a pack of 100 she'd bought from IKEA, which she'd happily swap for a piece of cake. She brought them in this morning. They were huge, but I was grateful.
Then we were swamped with customers.
We were heading towards running out again, and the delivery still hadn't come, so I dashed to pick up a second pack from the local store.
The owners of that particular shop will probably long wonder what caused the April napkin rush of 2011.

Starring Alan Titchmarsh

Two couples, renting a cottage in Witley Court's grounds for the weekend, came for lunch. They asked about walks in the area and one lady bought a plant. She was obviously a gardener. She knew the names of everything and said that until recently when they downsized she and her husband opened their gardens to the public for charity.
Told me she came from Cheshire but goes all over the place chasing nurserymen.
There's got to be a sitcom in that, surely.

Double meaning

From our visitors' book:
"Our second visit - we so enjoyed the first."

Over the threshold

Just a thought.
We appear to be zipping through the filter coffee.
Last season it was all lattes and cappuccinos, mochas and americanos. They were £1.90.
Now they're £2.10.
The filter coffee has also gone up but has stayed below £2.
Is that the reason?

Bin there, done that

The first full week is over and apart from a little gas trouble (see last weekend) it's gone well. I don't exactly feel like an old hand but last year at this stage I felt a little out of control. I seemed to be incapable of going even one day without having to visit the cash and carry or the farm shop or, at the other extreme, getting the bread order right. We were drowning in bread in the early weeks. And drowning in cream in the later ones. We were running out of change, and milk. The card machine was temperamental. We struggled with the froth for the cappuccinos.
It's not been perfect this year and I'm still making mistakes but the weather has really helped get us off to a good start. We haven't had a bad day since we opened, so the outside tables have been in full use - last year we started with rain and lots of mud being walked into the newly-cleaned carpets. I remember one rainy Thursday asking Nancie if she'd ever known a day without customers.
She hadn't.
I was convinced that day would be it.
It wasn't.
I'm much more proud of our menu now. Someone asked me today what I would recommend and I could rave about it all. It would have been wrong of me to recommend the paninis given that we'd run out by 1.30 but I could easily wax lyrical about the Witley Asparagus soup which made its seasonal debut today and will be making frequent appearances for the next few weeks.
One more big change from last year.
We've asked the council to take away one of our huge bins. Last year we paid them weekly for two but only ever filled one. What a waste of money (more than a tenner a week). Why did it take me the whole season to realise that?