Len

I thought my foot would be in my mouth less as I got older.
Wrong.
Today I went out to lunch with two octogenarians, one nonagenarian and someone who is only twenty years my senior.
The anecdotes were fab and, unusually, no one fell asleep in their meal.
As I was leaving I mentioned to Len (93, former high school maths teacher, born in Poland) that George and I are planning a trip to Vienna for our wedding anniversary.
I asked him if he'd ever been there?
"Yes, once," he answered.
I asked him excitedly if he'd liked it?
"Not really," he said, "I was in a labour camp."

Tempus fugit

Note to self.
Stop faffing around on the Internet and get those kitchen cupboards cleared out.
And the ironing done.
And the socks paired.
And the puppy trained.
And the floor oiled (unlikely, but it's on the list).
And the car cleaned (though, frankly, what's the point?).
Just get on with it all because these weeks are going to fly by.

Wanted

Tea rooms are in hibernation.
My sixth season is complete.
Recycling all done.
Freezers defrosted (not a single ice cream left. Joy.)

The first challenge of next season was laid down today when Sue, who makes our fruit cakes and ginger cakes, rang to say she's moving house and hanging up her apron.
She will be a very hard act to follow.
But to avoid those disappointed faces I must find someone to fill her shoes.

All Hail All Hallows

I particularly like a time of year when cobwebs can be classed as decoration.

Tea minus 3

A really lovely day filled with the very best of people.
You know who you are.
You are the americano drinkers (with hot milk) and the cakes to take home; the soup & fruit-and-lemon & blueberry cake lovers who bring us end-of-term gifts and the tea-with-the-bag-left-out-and-an-extra-saucer couple.
You all make the day brighter whenever you join us and we ask each other about you when we haven't seen you for a while.
You make the busy days easier to manage when you nod and give us a knowing smile.
You make the quieter days more fun with time for a chat.
Not seeing you is the only downside of closing for the winter.
Thank you.

Tea minus 4

Ice cream situation now excellent.
Crisps much more positive.
Drinks fridge looking a bit sorry for itself so may have to buy more cans of what I still refer to as "pop".
We counted up how many hams we've cooked this season - 85.
And we're going to need another one at least.

Tea minus 5

"I'd like a coffee please. Don't offer me all those funny kinds. I just want a nescaff."
I told him we don't have any instant coffee.
"I know," he said, "but just as normal as you can. It's not your fault. I blame Tony Blair. All that choice. All those tv channels. We didn't have them before him. 440 channels full of rubbish."

The ice cream position is, with five days left of the season, good.
The crisps position is a little more worrying (too many) as is the soft drinks situation (too few).
We have cooked two large hams in two days and I have been to the cash and carry two days in a row. A run on hot chocolate with marshmallows prompted the second trip. I should have foreseen that.

By Jiminy

It's that time of year: ice cream conundrum time.
With less than 3 weeks of the season left should I buy more, given that the weather is dry and sunny (but not warm) and that we have half term looming? The risk is that I'll have tubs left over....
Or should I stick with what I have and hope we don't disappoint too many kids?
At the moment I'm going with option 2.

Also deja vu over the cake display fridge.
It's making end-of-the-season noises. Earlier this week Geoff (who likes fruit cake and very short americanos) told us it sounded like a cricket was chirruping away loudly inside it.
Today it sounds like a broken machine grinding to a halt.
Bring back the cricket.

Horse power

A very busy day which required all sorts of organisational skills.
At 12 the Christening party for young Rory arrived for lunch. 30 people and a wishing tree.
They left us at 2pm.
At 3.15pm forty took over the same room for tea, sandwiches, cakes and scones.
They made way at 4pm for the other half of their group.
Another forty sandwiches, cups of tea, cakes and scones.
By 4.45pm all 80 were in the church preparing for a concert.

In the meantime we'd filled a further 100+ orders on what was a lovely,  sunny, Autumn day.

My favourite comment came from Charlotte, one of the 17 year old learner-drivers who work with us at the weekend. I should say she's a keen horse rider too.
We asked her about her driving skills.
"I can start and I can stop," she told us, "but mum says I have to get out of the habit of making clicking noises when I want the car to go a bit faster."

Hope springs

As well as the greetings cards we now sell we also have a small range of cards with local scenes - the fountain, the court, the church and a bluebell covered hill.
We sell these for a local charity.
They're very popular.
Especially the ones of the fountain.
Yesterday one of these was bought by a couple.
"We need a card," said she, "because we have to write an appeal against a parking fine. We put the money in but the ticket didn't come out."
I hope their plea is well received.
I hope the recipient likes the picture of the fountain.

Names and Numbers

We are so close to the end...
Less than a month until the curtain falls on the 2015 season.
But one more BIG Sunday to go. This Sunday.
Firstly a Christening party for 32, complete with Wishing Tree (I'll let you know on Monday).
Then a tea party for a choir.
Eighty of them.
Yes. Eighty.
Daunting to say the least.

Tales of the Unexpected

Just a couple of curveballs in the past few days....
Last week an email arrived asking if we could accommodate 11 cyclists for coffee & cake in Sunday morning. They were cycling from Ludlow to Gloucester.
Yes, happily, we said, and prepared for their arrival.
We served the eleven (they like their cake) but the orders kept coming.
A second, larger cycling group had arrived. They too wanted coffee and cake.
The cake display needed refilling and all the mugs in the place were in use.

Then yesterday - forecast rain and strong winds - I thought I'd be fine to take a few hours off.
Silly me.
That was the day for an unexpected coach.
That was the day that Freda agreed to come in to help but then realised she didn't have transport so walked the 3 miles to work.
That was the day the other two people who were working both felt under the weather.

I need a good crystal ball. And no curve ones.

October Octogenarians

This week has been busy. 

We've had that Indian Summer that we'd all wished for. Chilly autumnal mornings have given way to bright, sunny, 20 degree lunchtimes & afternoons. 

The customers too have been sunny and warm. Lots of two-couple parties out for the day, mums and daughters, ladies for coffee and one group of ten ladies for High Tea in the garden.

I wouldn't have managed this week without two people who are proper role models:

Eileen (81) washes up, clears tables, takes out trays and this week has had puppy entertainment added to her list of jobs.

My dad (81 next month) drives a round trip of well over an hour to wash up for me. 

He also looks after all the conservatory plants. 

This week he was paid in cups of coffee and seeds from the monkey puzzle tree which he's challenged himself to grow.

If I get to 80 I would like their work ethic, their cheerfulness and their energy.

In fact, I'd like those things now, please.

A left palaver

A couple of months ago, maybe three, we found a pale grey V neck sweater at an empty table.
We dutifully hung it with the lost property.
I have a vague memory (a lot of tea under the bridge since then) of a 'phone call from the owner (Gentleman 1) and it was moved into the staff-coats-hanging-area.
Two or three weeks ago we found another pale grey V neck sweater on the back of a chair in the conservatory. We dutifully hung it with the lost property.
Coincidentally, one day later Gentleman 1 came to retrieve his lost sweater. We gave him sweater 2, having forgotten all about sweater 1. He was really happy. Until his wife pointed out that it wasn't his.  It was a lady's sweater. (Dogs? Sweaters? How is one to tell the difference?)
They had tea in the garden and went home.
And then we found sweater 1, folded neatly, waiting to be collected.

This week gentleman 1 returned for tea and I was thrilled to be able to reunite him with his real, actual sweater. He was SO happy. And incredulous.
He took it outside to his wife on what was a beautiful, sunny, warm afternoon.
I expect the warmth made his wife take off her black cardigan.
Which is why we found it on the back of her chair after they'd left.

de la creme*

"Hot chocolate, please," he said, "with cream and marshmallows."

I told him that we didn't have any "squirty" cream, only whipped double cream which tends to sink, so would he prefer just the marshmallows which is what we normally do? 

"Nah," he said, "stick the cream in," then added, "I don't care. It's not for me."

One of my young staff (aged 20) was, shall we say, riled by his response. 

"Typical," she said, "that's exactly the sort of thing my dad would say."

*can't find the accent grave. Sorry.

The end is nigh.

Never have I been so happy to reach the end of September.
From tomorrow, and for the whole of October, a new closing time - 4pm - which will make working life a lot easier. The last hour has been a bit of a drag since the end of the summer holidays and although we have been very, very busy during this past week of sunshine it's mainly been at lunchtime.
September has been tricky too because most of the younger staff have gone back to universities and a few of the older staff have taken the opportunity to go on holiday.
Add the puppy into the mix and my nerves are frayed.
I know there will be people upset that they can't get a cup of tea post-4pm.
But it will make the last month of the season so much nicer for us tea-makers.

Pip Pip

Scaramouche

Today began, as yesterday, with a crying puppy. Pip is now spending her days at the tea rooms in a luxurious crate complete with cushion, toy & lots of smiling faces peering in at her. But no, that's not enough. She wants to be held.
So I went in early, set everything up and cradled her to sleep in the fireside chair (having made myself a latte).
Then the 'phone rang.
It was the perfect day for an unexpected coach. This one was from Southampton and had just turned up at the Court.
Not really enough time to get Pip into REM sleep so she cried and barked through the first order.
After a second go at puppy-cuddling she started puppy-snoring and slept for the rest of the morning.

I must be mad to be doing this puppy thing again when the tearooms are still open.
It's utterly exhausting.

Customer of the day was the older lady (in the coach party) who ordered a hot chocolate "with the full fandango, please".
We knew what she meant.

Life's a...

I have a friend who took possession of a new puppy at the weekend. She'd been to choose her a few weeks ago from a large litter. The man selling the pups shaved a little area of the puppy's leg and then later shaved a J on her head (he thought that was the first letter of my friend's name.) So many people were coming to see and choose he had to keep a record of who'd chosen which dog.
The puppy cried most of the first night. And at intervals during the second.
This afternoon my friend took her new puppy to the vets to have her first vaccinations.
The vet called her into the surgery and stroked the pup, asking all about her. She checked her ears. Then looked in her mouth. Then stretched out her legs.
Then the vet told my friend that the pup was not, in fact, a girl dog.
My friend left the surgery quickly and without really being able to speak.

So it turns out that the man selling the pups wasn't there when the dog was collected but had left instructions with his housesitter how to identify each one. Turns out there was another lady whose name also began with a J. Turns out she wanted a boy dog.
Turns out there are plenty of people who can't tell a boy dog from a girl dog.
And plenty of people who can, and who are laughing a lot at me my friend.

Doctors orders

This morning a tired paediatrician came for a cream tea. She'd had no sleep, she told us, and had to stay even longer than usual at work for a meeting.
And she needed tea.
She sat in the garden (not terribly warm, but dry at least) but before she left for home and bed she bought A LOT of jewellery from our display cabinet, a few cards and a diffuser. As she handed over her credit card I said I hoped she wouldn't regret the big spend when she woke up later...

This afternoon a man in a top hat came in. He ordered a latte and a cake and sat in the garden.
He parked his vehicle just outside the door of the tea rooms.
But no one minded a bit.

A warm glow

We have some really lovely visitors. 

Many are tourists and we may never see them again. 

Some are more local and become regulars and even friends. 

I was mainly in the kitchen yesterday but ventured to the counter to serve towards the end of the day. A man I'd never seen before had picked up some of our gift items and needed help. I read the back of the one of the packets to him to explain how the Grow-your-own-lavender pouch works. 

He told me I had a good reading voice. 

He also said that the gifts were for his wife for their 44th wedding anniversary (which is today). 

That she hadn't been well recently and the day out had tired her so she was in the car.

That when they were first engaged she had become upset one day saying there was something she had to tell him....that the "something" was that she was 18 months older than him, and she thought it might make a difference. 

This morning he sent me this email: 

 

Dear Gill,

 My wife was very pleased with the Lavender Candle, Lavender Plant,

and Honey Marmalade.

Thanks for your help!

 I’m still her “Toy-Boy”, and she is still my favourite Girl.

 Regards,

 Bob.

So my day has already been made. Happy Anniversary to the toy-boy and his favourite girl. 

Care Bear

Today "Louise" came to have tea.
"Louise" is a teddy bear, representing a real life person.
Six friends meet up and enjoy trips and lunches and weekends away but Louise couldn't make it because her husband isn't well. So everywhere they went her friends took the teddy bear with her name on it and took a photograph. They went to the church, came to us for coffee and then left to see the fountain.
I think Louise should be really chuffed. She was clearly never far from their thoughts. She must be really lovely.

Nerves

It's the eve of the final Bank Holiday weekend of the season.
There's a big art and craft fair in the church.
There's a Victorian Fayre in the Court.
There's a big knot in my stomach.
Nufsed.

Mrs C.

Yesterday I was asked a question I'd never been asked before:
"Are you married to Michael Collie?"

Not one, but two visitors to the tearooms asked this, separately. Two ladies who were part of a 34-strong floral art club. I had to tell them I'd never even met Michael Collie, although I do think he has good hair.
"Someone said you were his wife," said one, "I was going to ask if you could get him to give a talk to our WI. Oh well."
I did hate to disappoint them.

Very rock and roll

We've been visited by a touring Canadian band.
We don't know much about them.
Other than they're a band, they're touring this country and they're from Canada.
Oh and that one of them bought a pair of oven gloves with chickens on them. And another bought a very nice bar of organic soap.

Lost and Found

An email yesterday: 

My wife and I visited Witley Court on Monday and had a delicious, relaxing lunch in your gardens. When I got home I found I'd lost my faithful old flat cap, and wondered if I might have dropped it where we were sat opposite your main entrance. Have you had anything like this handed in?

We had indeed. How fabulous to be able to reunite a "faithful old flat cap" with its yearning owner via the Royal Mail. I only hope it's the right hat...

Then today we found a handbag, left open on one of our tables. Inside a phone, a Filofax, money, lipstick, tissues. We waited. Surely someone would come back. We waited. No one arrived to claim it.
So we began the Sherlock Holmes procedures. The phone was locked. We checked her Filofax for an address. We found that she is taking her dog to be groomed tomorrow. We rang the groomers. They had an address but no home number.
We went round the houses for a while and then struck gold.
I have left her a message on her home phone.
The dog groomers may also tell her where she left her bag....

The state we're in

Well, Marvin J. Hackenbacker, from Idaho, you have intrigued us.
Are you writing the very same thing in every visitors' book you find (tea rooms and church)  - "I just don't get it" ?

Or is it a genuine statement?
Are you using a made-up name?
Are you even American?
I just don't get it.

A Titian. A Titian. They all fall down.

Another busy weekend.
Bede's 80th yesterday afternoon.
Tracy's 40th this afternoon.
A packed garden on both days.
We had to rush out for milk and cream.

Plus the story from two ladies on their way to Venice (via Birmingham airport). The last time they were there (fifteen years ago) they misunderstood a monk's hand gestures. He'd offered to show them a very special religious painting in an ante room and beckoned them forward. Apparently the Italian gesture of beckoning is a lot like ours for "get-down-on-the-floor". So the two women dropped to their knees and shuffled forward towards the piece of artwork (which was amazing) and in doing so a perfectly lovely white linen dress was never the same again and a monk was totally bemused.

June in July

Two visitors of photographic note yesterday.
Firstly June, the original owner of the Ugly Yellow Handbag came for a cup of tea and slice of coffee & walnut cake. She brought her latest bag. Which is far from ugly and isn't at all yellow:

Then there was Maria, a harpist, who brought her harp to the birthday gathering she was attending. She drank tea, ate scones and played utterly beautifully.
It was a real privilege to hear her.

She is teaching the harp to the lady who organised the birthday tea. Her name is Kim Wilde (yes, really).
I suggested that if she turns professional with her instrument she could perform under the name Wilde At Harp. 
You're welcome.

Same old.

Apparently this is the point in the season when I say something about giving up; not doing another season after this; finding a different career.
Apparently this usually comes after a larger-than-usual party, mid way through July, with half the season to go.
I said this today.
My husband tells me it's my normal behaviour.
I hate being so predictable.

Wed

Mr and Mrs.
A lovely wedding.
They, their friends and their family certainly do like their cake.

We're hosting another family party tomorrow so an early night is mandatory.
Then I can relax a little.
(Til the party next Saturday)

Stirred

It's begun.
I was sort of awake between 1.45 and 2.45 this morning.
Worrying about teaspoons and whether we have enough of them for Saturday.
The order is now in for an extra 100 (plus three new black aprons).
Am left with the worry that FedEx might not find us in time for the wedding....

The marquee goes up today. The grass was being mown as I left last night.
It's begun.

Nerves

It's been a busy few days. What with the ugly yellow handbag, unexpected coach parties, expected coach parties, walking groups, a bridal shower and loads of kids who've just been let out for the Summer. (Excuse me please, I've just dropped my pound into the ice cream freezer and I can't reach it).
On Saturday it's the 2015 wedding.
Kate and Gareth are tying the knot.
The marquee goes up on Thursday morning.
My nights are already disturbed by lists, orders, recipes, weather, numbers, rotas and space issues.

Getting his worms wrong

A 'phone call:
"I'd like to book a lunch for fifty people, please. We'd also like some tea."
That's fine, I told him.
"But," he added, "I need to tell you that we have two vegetarians and a celeriac."

That's the vegetarians sorted then...

Watch and learn

Remember this? 

I am planning to visit the tearooms and to have a dozen or so of my motorcycling friends meet me there too.  We have been before on several occasions. Although our bikes might be noisy smelly things most of the riders are not and I can assure you there will be no shootouts or anything like that, just a few geriatric bikers looking for a cuppa and bite to eat!

Hope this won't be a problem to you?

Regards

Stuart 

Velocette Owners club

They came today.

About twenty of them.

They were fab.

They can come again.

They arrived half an hour before 45 Chinese teenagers came for lunch, and to have a (very short) lesson in scones. We gave them a lesson because last year's group had bitten into the scones before we'd even put the jam and cream on the tables. 

So this year we demonstrated (Cornwall and Devon ways) and then brought out the cream, jam and scones. 

Crafty.

surprise surprise

Today has just been strange.
As well as all the bag stuff (see below. And below that.) we had a coach party turn up without notice. Which is always interesting.
36 people from Shropshire. They ate us out of quiche, and soup, and jacket potatoes.

Money bags

Stunned.

The "ugly yellow bag" story has made national radio.

A lovely piece on Radio 4's PM programme this evening, broadcast pretty much as I was in a studio taking to BBC Radio 5Live. 

Very odd to be on the other side in an anonymous studio, talking to a wall. 

I was nervous as I waited, and then - well, not so nervous. I knew my story well.

This morning I had told it on BBC Radio Newcastle and I have been boring people senseless with it all week. 

I sorted out the tearooms for tomorrow and came home to watch the eBay auction finish. 

£1090.00.

For an ugly yellow handbag.

Stunned.

Cut and run

Towards the end of every season (nowhere near yet, only half way through) members of staff start suggesting improvements which could be made over the winter months.
And so it was that in January I bought a small, red meat slicer which was put into use on the first day of the season.
We cook our own ham at the tearooms. We cook it, so we have to slice it. We use it for sandwiches, panini and ham salads. That's a fair amount of sliced ham.
A couple of weeks ago this slicer stopped slicing. The sharp blade refused to turn. It became an ex-ham slicer. The company I'd bought it from replaced it without question and told me to throw the first one away.
The second one lasted less than a week before it too gave up, went on strike and refused to return to work.
We're now on our third in as many weeks.
Thus far it is behaving itself but I just can't bring myself to throw away two machines when someone, somewhere might know how to fix them. Even if one of them did its utmost to slice off part of my finger. So they're both sitting in a box in a corner of the kitchen.
I live in hope.

A Handbag

This is an unusually long post for me. But then it's a long story....
Early this year, perhaps it was February, I went out to lunch with my Dad, his friend Pam and their 89 year old friend called June.
June is a widow who wears colourful clothing, tells colourful tales and calls everyone "dear".
And I adore her.
Anyway, on this particular occasion she told me she'd recently bought a handbag from a garden centre but realised when she got it home that she didn't like it:
"I can't get on with it, dear," she said, "would you like it?  To raise money for that lovely church?"
She meant the baroque church in Great Witley, which badly needs a new roof.
I said yes, thinking I could use it as a raffle prize.
Until, a couple of days later, I finally saw it.
It was truly horrible. A nasty yellow colour, funny sticky-out bits on shiny brown handles, a long purse contraption which doubled as a closing clasp. Awful. No one would want to win it in a raffle. No one.

So I hatched a plan and put it on eBay (with June's permission, dear) with a no-holds barred write-up. I described it as a bag with no redeeming features, the worst I'd ever seen.
Local BBC radio picked up the story, interviewed June and myself and raised the profile and the bidding in the process. We made £28. And I got rid of the bag.
Perfect.

A week later I received an email from a lady I didn't know. She told me her husband had bought the bag having heard us on the radio. He'd been on his tractor at the time, somewhere in Gloucestershire, and he bought it as a joke. She told me she was now re-auctioning it for a cloth-nappy library charity. It made £24 and was bought by a lady in Norway.
Janicke's daughter had been born prematurely. She re-auctioned it on eBay for the neonatal unit which had saved her life and made £94.
At this point it gets complicated. However it's now in Newcastle upon Tyne and being sold by a lady with an incredible story of her own:
http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/Ugly-Yellow-Handbag-raising-money-for-Cancer-Patients-/261955062872

Late

Here she is - Wimbledon Cake II.
Yesterday's.
Now no longer with us.
Incidentally my dental appointment turned out to be even more overdue than I'd thought since I was a day late turning up for it.

If you can't stand the heat...

They can't say they didn't warn us.

Last week the forecasters told us it was going to be hot. A heatwave. A difficult-to-sleep-in kind of heat. 

And it is.

It's even more difficult to work in.

Especially when there's an hour-long power cut which means we can't open the freezers and the fans aren't working (3.45-4.45 this afternoon).

This didn't seem to worry the many who sat in the garden shade, sipping elderflower presses and eating the first Wimbledon Cake of the season.

I made it this morning - orange zest sandwich sponge, filled with fresh local cream, local strawberries and not-so-local passion fruit, topped with more strawberries. I so wish I'd taken a photo but it had all gone before it even crossed my mind. 

I shall try again tomorrow but may be thwarted by an overdue visit to the dentist. 

Who I am sure will tell me to eat more cake.

Glimpse of another life

Overheard, as I was clearing a nearby table:

"....and you hang in that one spot and meditate.
It's absolutely extraordinary.
That's the reason I'm going on this retreat."

a big yes from me

My kind of email: Hello Gill I am planning to visit the tearooms and to have a dozen or so of my motorcycling friends meet me there too.  We have been before on several occasions. Although our bikes might be noisy smelly things most of the riders are not and I can assure you there will be no shootouts or anything like that, just a few geriatric bikers looking for a cuppa and bite to eat! Hope this won't be a problem to you? Regards Stuart  Velocette Owners club

Four letter word

We have a jar on the counter for tips, should the fancy take someone to express their happiness with our service through the medium of loose change.

It's there more in hope than expectation.

This is how we advertise it:

which, of course, leads to some scrabbling. There's not a great deal of choice, given there are only four letters, but quite a few have a go.

This is typical:

As is this (usually accompanied by a schoolboy guffaw):

But this week someone came up with a NEW one. 

After nearly five years of PITS and SPIT someone thought out of the box:

Clever and appropriate. 

And he even dropped a coin in the jar.

accounting for taste

So there's a lady in a brilliantly orange t-shirt and she's looking at the choice of cakes and she asks her husband what he'd like and he points at the millionaire's shortbread and she says what? I can't believe you've chosen the most boring one I'm having the victoria sponge.

What it's all about

Three conversations today made me smile.

I was clearing a table in the conservatory as a couple was leaving:
"I can't think why we haven't been here before," said she, "it's lovely."
"Are you local, then?" I asked.
"No we're from Newbury in Berkshire" came the reply. Which I felt suggested exactly why they may not have been to us before....

The second was a conversation I have at least once a week. Usually with a man.
It goes something like this:
Him: a hot chocolate and a coffee please?
Me: what sort of coffee would you like? Latte, cappuccino, filter, mocha, americano?
Him: Oh god.

And then there's Jim who always makes my day. This week he's 91. He looks strong as an ox, has a broad smile and an indescribable charm. Ten family members from 3 generations came for scones and cake to celebrate his birthday. Jim had both and took cake home as well. Their laughter rang round the tea rooms which was otherwise pretty quiet. It had not been a busy day (it had rained and rained and rained).
When he came in I introduced him to a lady at the next table who's celebrating her 80th tomorrow. Neither of them look their age.
Both of them ate cake.
There is hope for me yet.

A many splendoured thing

On Saturday morning a gentleman ordered two coffees and a toasted tea cake and told me he'd be sitting in the conservatory where his wife had already taken her seat.
I took the tray to them.
The lady looked questioningly at her husband when she saw the teacake.
"It's a surprise for you," he said, and then added, "happy anniversary."
She looked at me.
"Happy Anniversary," I said.
"He's bought me a teacake?" she asked, as if for confirmation, and stifling a giggle.
"I think it's romantic," I said, then: "how long have you been married?"
"Fifty six years today," she answered, "and he's not only bought me a teacake as an anniversary present, he'll also expect me to share it with him."

They dined on mince and slices of quince

"I have a complaint," he said when I arrived at his table for the second time, "my runcible fork is for right-handed people and I am left-handed."

He had a twinkle in his eye. He also had a point.
Which had never been made to me before.
To start with I'd never heard a pastry fork called "runcible" and I didn't really know what it meant. I gathered that it was a fork with a sharp edge for cutting.
"He's looked everywhere for a left-handed one," added his equally lovely wife, "believe me he's bought them from all over the place but when they arrive they're all right-handers."

I went back inside and checked our stock (must have been a quietish day...)
I found two pastry forks which were of indeterminate right-leftness. Neither had a sharp edge. I took them out to show him.

"Hmmm, I see," said he, "Not really runcible though."

He looked at this one:

"I particularly like this," he added, "it's very Roman."

I turned to his wife and told her that he seemed to know his forks.
She rolled her eyes, "We have a very interesting marriage" she said, smiling.

Human kindness

"Do you have soya milk," he asked, "or lactose-free milk?"

It just so happened that on this occasion I did have soya milk. I was thrilled to say a great big "yes". (We are, after all, in Britain's Got Talent season).

The lady at his side had another question:

"Which is it?"

I went to the fridge and brought it back to the counter to show them. Bonafide soya milk. I was very proud of it.

"We'll have ordinary milk," she said, somewhat bursting my balloon, "we don't like soya milk."

All change

Sunday was a big day for so many people.
Baby Wyatt was to be christened in the Church. His parents asked me to reserve a table for them and twenty friends for afterwards.
The archdeacon was visiting for the service, coincidentally, and the congregation would stroll down to us afterwards for their usual coffee and biscuits.
We were set up for both.
And then, half an hour before they were all due to arrive twenty lycra-clad cyclists rolled in, parked their bikes (and two tandems) outside and ordered multiple tea, teacakes and cake.
I love cyclists. They never question the need for cake.

Today I rushed home mid-morning to "borrow" some bin liners.
On my return,  I saw a small coach reversing up the drive towards the tea rooms.
It brought a group of coffee-loving Dutch people (two double espresso for one man alone). We were the last stop on their way from their holiday in Wales to Birmingham airport and as a result they were very keen to pay with any leftover British coins.

Got the hang of this photo-on-blog thing, Bill.

If I were at all green fingered I'd be able to talk more about the wonders that have arrived in both the garden and conservatory this week.
Suffice to say that, inside, the jasmine and arum lilies are bloomin' lovely and we've spotted the first passion flower of the season:

While outside everything is eclipsed by the wonderful wisteria - better than ever this year, we reckon, and being photographed by lots of visitors:

Addendum

I found another one today (see previous post).
We gave lunch in the conservatory to a large group from the Worshipful Company of Educators.
"Are you the ham?" I asked one of the men.
"Don't you start." he answered.

Easily pleased.

One of the small pleasures of working at the tearooms comes when delivering an order to a table and being able to ask a complete stranger: "Are you the fruit cake?".
It's even better when they answer, yes.
And then laugh.

Keep Smiling Through

Such a good weekend.
On Saturday we hosted a very special party. B has just finished her horrible treatment for breast cancer and she and K wanted to thank their friends and family who'd been such a support through an awful few months. High Tea for 35ish in the conservatory was kicked off with a brilliant speech by K who, with his voice cracking, told us that his wife is his hero. At that point I had to leave. It's unseemly to serve scones with tears pouring down your face.
Yesterday they sent an email to thank all the staff.
They'd arrived with an orchid as a gift for me.
To say I am touched is an understatement.

At the other end of the scale one customer today was, shall we say, hard to please?
One of our crimes is that the sign on the loo door isn't big enough.

Post election post

There were some tired eyes at the tearooms today.

A good many middle aged and older people confessed to having been up all night. 

One man said he'd flown in from Orlando to vote.

A lady said she'd fallen asleep on the sofa at 5am, went to bed, woke at noon and was out walking to try to sort out her body clock.

One couple, trying to tell me about a group booking they wanted to make, kept losing track of what they were saying and eventually admitted they hadn't slept at all.

Such is the power of a General Election when the result is meant to be on a knife-edge.

I bet they'll all be abed early tonight....

Crumbs

The result of the General Cake-lection has taken me by surprise. It has a real impact on my future.
It means I'll have to get up earlier for a start. It also means I'll be buying more lemons.

Here are the full results:

Lemon Drizzle 27%
Chocolate Cake 18%
Coffee & Walnut 17%
Victoria Sponge 14%
Carrot Cake  13%
Fruit Cake  11%

There were no spoilt ballots, although some did have some very nice comments written on them.
A man called Steve (we asked for names if voters wished to go into a draw to win Afternoon Tea for Two) wrote that he is "clinically addicted" to Coffee and Walnut cake. Another voter wrote DELICIOUS in capital letters next to the name of their chosen cake.
Chris Evans told his audience this morning that his vote went to Victoria Sponge, Vassos Alexander chose Coffee and Walnut.

Quite a spectacle

A quiet day which began with me making red onion marmalade - lots of onion slicing. Then some onion chopping for chilli and some more for soup. Today we made sweet potato, carrot and cumin which was a great response to the positively autumnal chill in the air.
We thought we might close up early but at four we had two sets of visitors.
A German couple came for the second time in a week. She loves the carrot cake. Last week they brought a group of Germans who all had coffee. I asked her how it had gone down?
"The coffee is very good here now," she said, "when we first came to England in the sixties it was like the water after you have done the dishes. Now it is all good."

A trio of Sussex ladies arrived at the same time for tea. They're in the area for the Malvern Spring Show. I complimented one of them on her glasses, at which point she whipped them off her face to reveal the hidden secret.
I would definitely like some of these:

    
All three ladies voted. Two of them revealed they had chosen lemon drizzle. A late surge?

A Cross the miles.

Helen came back today. It was her idea to use the ballot box for the General Cake-lection. It was her idea to have rosettes worn by staff, manifestos, ballot papers and an Afternoon Tea for one lucky voter. So she just had to have a vote.
This is a woman who believes in democracy. She drove a long way to exercise her right.

My guess is that she voted for chocolate cake, since that's what she chose to go with her tea....

That's a wrap

This week has been interesting. For most of it we have been visited by a film unit who've been making a new ten part cold war drama for BBC2 next year. Stephen Poliakoff, Alfred Molina, Robert Glenister and Jim Sturgess have been enjoying the surroundings of Witley Court. We have seen lighting crew, riggers and members of the production team and the receipt-giving facility on the new till has been well used. 

On Friday afternoon, returning from a cash and carry shop, I had to wait for "cut" before I could drive past uniformed men, lying on the bank behind military vehicles. Just to remind myself when the time comes...it's called Close to the Enemy.
Yesterday this was all that was left. A solitary portaloo with the word "children" stuck on it.

Manifestly Great Cakes.

The General Cake-lection.

Your vote counts.

Because we count your vote. 

No cause for a llama.

At the risk of repeating myself....we are having a great run. Sunshine & lovely people make everything so much easier. I am really enjoying myself.
And we meet such interesting folks.
Two ladies who came in this morning were on their way home to Durham having spent the weekend walking alpacas on a farm in Tenbury Wells grabbedbythealpacas.co.uk which I'd never heard of before and is only half an hour away.
So you spend the weekend glamping and leading alpacas on a trek, which is apparently very relaxing.
Who'd have thought?

And they call it....

We are on a roll. Another wonderful day.
The forecast had been poor all week but we didn't see very much rain.

The fabulous day started with a couple poking their head in the door before we'd opened to ask if they could "Nick a cup of tea?".  They had traveled for two and half hours from Leatherhead to Witley to see a puppy. A  black flat haired retriever. They were going to be interviewed by the breeder to see whether they would be allowed to buy the last of the litter. I told them they couldn't come all the way from Surrey and not see our church. They promised they would return after their appointment.
And they did.
They saw the church and had lunch with us, raving about both their visit and the puppy.
They even showed me a video of the pups.
They'll return in three weeks to pick up their new baby.
I hope they pop in....

Flat (ulent) Fish

Another cracker of a day.
Sunshine, lovely visitors, babes in arms and babes in tummies, older people out for a drive and a cuppa, antipodean families and a French couple. Deliveries of more cards, more coffee beans and new outdoor furniture.

And a lady and gent who ordered two pieces of toffee cake and two lattes WITH MARSHMALLOWS - not sure it'll catch on. When I delivered their order I asked if they wanted me to leave the sugar on the table. "What do you think?" she asked. I left a full bowl of sugar and told them to call me if they wanted more.

Sara made us laugh with her story of once going to buy fish for her dad's aquarium. She and her sister had asked for guidance from someone in the store: "Well," the helper pointed out, "we have golden orfe and blue orfe."
She and her sister now just have to say "Blue Orfe" to one another and they're in giggles.
They're both over 50.

Milky Way

"A latte and two of your dairy-free cakes, please."
I didn't ask.

Of the times.

This sign means a lot.

It means that the farm at one end of the village has started picking asparagus. It means that we can start making Witley Asparagus Soup. It means that it won't be too long before the same farm adds to the sign the words Strawberries, Raspberries and Cherries.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

For now I am content with this:

Dilemma

The first customer in today proffered the palm of his hand and asked me to smell it.

What should my response have been?
Say,  "Eurrggh, are you KIDDING, no thanks." And run the risk of him taking his two-latte, two-slices-of-Victoria-Sponge business elsewhere?
Or really go for it, take a big sniff, and run the risk of making myself ill?

Generally I am risk-averse but on this occasion I sized up the situation (and the man) and decided to inhale. Deeply.
His hand smelled of coriander. He was taking a break from harvesting a field of what, he says, is some of the best he's ever grown.

Phew.

Off Spring

My journey to work is short. If it weren't for having to collect the bread I wouldn't have to go on a road, just up the farm track from my home to the tea rooms. This morning as I bumped my way through the potholes I saw a beautiful sight to which my rubbish photography on my phone cannot do justice:

Mother Duck was very anxious to get her ducklings to safety and they moved pretty quackly (sic). I watched them make their way to the Court lake. I couldn't stop smiling.

Encore

This week has been just wonderful.
The past three days have been exceptional:
A) the weather has been warm and kind
B) the customers have been warm and kind and funny
C) nothing has broken.

Yesterday a couple ordered their lunch and were asked the usual question: where will you be sitting when we bring your order - in the main room, the conservatory or outside?
The gentleman answered immediately.
His wife looked astonished: "He's never that decisive!" she said.
"It won't happen again for another year" he quipped.

The same couple returned today. His opening line?
"I know what I'm having for lunch, but no idea where we're sitting or what sort of coffee to have."

It was a day of returning customers. Last year we hosted a family meal for four generations at two long garden tables in gorgeous sunshine in July. The organiser was celebrating her 80th birthday though we are certain she has a portrait in an attic somewhere.
Today she and her husband came for lunch and to book a repeat performance. This time to celebrate their diamond wedding anniversary. We checked the date, adjusted the menu a little and ordered the sunshine for July.

Some of the people, some of the time.

On Saturday a lovely young couple ordered, amongst other things, a cream tea.
So far, nothing unusual.
We took their tea, scone, jam and cream to their table in the conservatory.
Just as it should be.
Seconds later the young man returned to the counter to say they hadn't been given their cream. We were confused. "Did we bring your scone?" we asked.
"Yes," he replied, "the scone came with jam and cream....but there wasn't any cream to go in the tea."


Then on Sunday a lady asked for a pot of tea, drank it, and then returned to the counter to berate us for giving her too much. "I could have had four cups out of that one pot," she said crossly, "and I only wanted one."
That left us open mouthed....

Solid ground

Our "new" Fracino coffee machine. He's being kept very busy....

More is more

The great weather continues with summer temperatures and lots of sunshine. It's meant to be the last day of it today. Staying dry for the weekend but a more normal 11 degrees.
We've been open two weeks.
That's all.
The first week was breakages week, and now feels like we've run a marathon every day for the past seven days.
We've taken the plunge and bought the borrowed coffee machine. It's bigger and better in every way and it would have been hard to return to the small one after that (now fixed). We're going to keep the littl'un for emergencies. Fingers crossed we won't need it.

No butts

I couldn't have written anything yesterday.
Easter Monday is usually busy but this was beyond superlatives and I was far too tired to try to sum it up.
Mary had made ninety scones in the morning. All gone by 4.30, and even if we had more to sell we'd run out of cream.
We also ran out of bread, panini, baking potatoes, tea cakes, hot cross buns, red onion marmalade, cheese, smoked salmon and peppers.
We did not run out of milk chiefly because we had 64 pints delivered yesterday morning.
This morning I had to go out for more.

Today was lovely. Busy, but not on yesterday's scale.
A group of ladies were in the garden at the end of the day. One told me that she always likes to help clear her own table ever since a stint working in the BHS restaurant:
"That was back in the days," she said, "when people would stub their cigarettes out in their food."
Which somehow made me feel a lot better.

Bad

Yesterday Will carried a tray out to the garden and called out the order number.
He was greeted by a man waving his numbered spoon who called out, "Over here, bitch".
The other people at the table were apparently very apologetic and told their friend that he'd been very rude.
His excuse was that he didn't mean it, it was a joke, he was just using a phrase from Breaking Bad.

When Will came back in to tell us we wanted to know how old the perpetrator was?
Will answered that the people at the table were "quite old". But then he's 18 so most people are quite old in comparison.

Above and Beyond

So, back to Thursday. The engineer arrived at 4.30 and "fixed" the coffee machine. He tried to explain what was wrong with it. I didn't really understand.
Turned out, neither did he really, because yesterday morning when I turned it on EXACTLY THE SAME THING HAPPENED.
I was on my own, having gone in early to bake, and I'm ashamed to say I had a minor meltdown.
There were a few tears.
Because of course by now it's Friday. Good Friday. A Bank Holiday. So the manufacturer is closed and the engineer is enjoying a day off. He may even have decided to take the family out for the day. Somewhere where they could enjoy a nice cup of coffee.......

Anyway, step forward Ethical Addictions, the company which supplies my excellent coffee beans. Huw had been trying to sort out the repair for me and had foolishly given me his mobile number. I rang it. At the end of my tether.
Bear in mind Huw was also "enjoying" a day off (until I called). He offered to loan me their office coffee machine, twice the size of mine. George went to collect it and had a quick lesson in plumbing-in & setting-up, arriving back before the afternoon rush. We were making cappuccino after latte after mocha within minutes.

So now we have it, and it works beautifully.
Both Meg and Annie don't want to give it back.

Today we've been astonishingly busy, a proper holiday weekend feel with loads of families. Our first lunch orders came at 11.30. People could actually sit in the garden - the sun came out this afternoon.
And thanks to Huw we haven't had to disappoint the coffee-lovers.

Grinding to a halt

Enough. Please make it stop.
This morning the coffee machine broke down. It refused point blank to warm up then dumped a lot of water all over the serving area.
The engineer has been called.
We're third on his list for tomorrow so I'm hoping the first two calls are to people who have simply forgotten how to plug in their machine ....

A young couple with their gorgeous Dalmatian came in early and went to sit in the conservatory. They were back at the counter within a minute to ask if we had anything they could use to clear up after their dog who'd been sick. A lot. They apologised about ten times and insisted on clearing and cleaning and mopping. I bet their tea was almost cold by the time they got to it.

In better news...our huge gate was in the process of being replaced and painted as I left this evening. Plus the card machine seems to have settled in, and we're all rather taken by the ham slicer which works a treat.
I hope I haven't spoken too soon.

We had a busy day of ice creams and panini, sandwiches and lots of scones, ham slicing and coleslaw making.

Wet and Wild

The card machine is back. Or rather, we have a new one. It is slightly different from the old one which means we're going to have to get used to a new till and a new card machine at the same time. Some members of staff haven't been in yet so they may have a shock....

The second set of cards have arrived and are making us laugh.
The wind is not amusing.
All of the benches were on their backs when I arrived this morning. The plastic chairs were strewn around the garden, customers came in damp and windswept - one girl had to dry her clothes on the radiators having been standing a little too close to the fountain during one of the stronger gusts.

Don came to celebrate his 84th birthday in coffee. He's not allowed cake, he says, cos he's diabetic, so he had a second latte.

The rain and wind sent everyone home early. Including me.

Gate-gate

Day three of what is turning out to be the most challenging start to any season so far.
It's raining.
Not only that but it's cold and blustery.
Therefore few people are venturing out.
We did have a lovely group of German tourists, a couple of ladies who bought A LOT of jewellery, a few dogs who had dragged their owners out for walks and, best of all, Jim.

Jim held his 90th birthday lunch with us last year and is a favourite customer. Today he brought his family for lunch. He also brought a good few bruises having rolled his motor scooter last Thursday. Apparently this happened as he attempted to negotiate a kerb, in the dark, on the way home from the pub. My kind of man.

The end of the day was a right old headache. The large gate was battered so much by the winds during the day that it came apart. I couldn't close it. I couldn't leave it open. I couldn't remove the locking chain because it appeared to be the only thing holding part of the the gate together.
I couldn't go home.
I did the only thing I could and called for help.
Thank goodness there are still heroes in the world.
Thank goodness that two of them live in Witley.

First world problems

Day two began with me putting oil which was meant for my hair onto my face.
Such are the perils of too many bottles of liquid stuff. I own them more in hope than expectation. Hair oil on the face might prove to be the best beauty discovery yet....

I made it to the tea rooms just before 9, sliced onions for the red onion marmalade, set them to caramelise and turned my attention to the new till.
The shiny new gadget has clearly given the old card machine the hump because it refused to turn on properly and kept displaying threatening messages.
I called the card machine people.
Bad news - It's a goner and they'll send a new upgraded terminal.
Worse news - It won't get to me before Tuesday.
While on the 'phone to the very sympathetic-but-unable-to-help-further man the onions over-caramelised, or burnt if you will.

Crisis passed, we had a quietish but lovely day catching up on what the university students have been doing over the winter.

When I came home I realised I had only done half my make up this morning.
Let's move on, shall we?

One down.

The bread arrived.
A huge relief and a lesson for next year which I shall probably forget.

Day One is now over and a host of old friends & customers came to witness our battle with the new till. I think we are winning although there's a long way to go.
I have signed up to a till telephone helpline which has already proved valuable although my heart beat a little faster this afternoon when I realised there won't be anyone to answer the helpline phone over the weekend. Our busiest time.

The coffee machine is struggling to get back in the swing. Frankly so am I.

Naomi brought us a new quiche to try - Beetroot, Feta and Red Leicester.
It's red, and it's good.

Doh

This could prove to be a very interesting start to my 6th season.
We've cleared, cleaned, steam-cleaned, pressure-washed, altered layouts, set up new displays, edited the menu, cooked a ham, ordered tomatoes, cakes, milk, apple juice, honey, fudge, gifts and cards.

What I forgot to order was bread.

When I finally remembered, long after the deadline for orders, I rang the baker.
On the fourth attempt someone who wasn't a baker, but who knew a man who was, picked up the 'phone to a desperate sounding woman who couldn't remember the word "panini".
It will therefore be interesting to see:
a) whether a delivery comes and if so
b) what's in it.

Electric Shock

The tea rooms are closed from the end of October until the end of March so we don't use a great deal of electricity over those months. I have one freezer running, the storage heaters are kept on, the phone is plugged in, the gardener boils a kettle when he's around, but apart from that our energy consumption is pretty low.
Or so I thought.
Last night I had one of those knee-buckling moments.
I opened the latest electricity bill.
Total amount due for Dec-March - £3,321.45.
The electricity charges amounted to £315, then there were standing charges of just under £20.
Then something called the Renewable Source Electricity Charge - £2,767.88.
Whaaaa? Some small print I'd missed?
I confess to a certain level of panic.

This morning I rang them.
A young lady called Leanne breezily told me the bill had been "sent in error".

As you were.

Quiche sera sera

I've had several pieces of news to digest in the past few days, not least that my small but lovely business will be paying a significant amount of money to the bank from June for the pleasure of depositing cash in the account. I'm not sure why. Surely it takes more effort to sort out the funds from a cheque than it does to weigh ready-counted cash?

In better news this evening we have been chosen by the good people at World Book Night to give away copies of...erm....books. 

This year we applied to give away a detective mystery by MC Beaton called Quiche of Death.

I wonder how many quiche orders we'll take on 23rd April....

Eggs is eggs

In December new food labelling regulations were introduced.
Which mean that my most important winter job is to find a way of telling customers exactly what's in our food. Or rather whether any ingredients from a list of allergens are involved anywhere.
I gave myself a deadline to do this.
End of January.
I started today.
I do have a question, though.
Do I need to write "contains eggs" after "Egg Mayonnaise"?
The law now demands it, but is there a better way of doing it?
Perhaps I should just insert the word "obviously".

Present and correct.

Yesterday I set out on a new path.
I have been thinking for a while that we should stock gift items at the tea rooms. Not souvenirs, but pretty tea towels, scented candles, boxed soaps - that sort of thing.
For when you're sitting having a cuppa with a friend, realise that it's your sister's birthday tomorrow and the options are a) leave the lovely surroundings and your cup of tea and your friend to drive into town to trawl the shops for a present or b) buy a perfectly lovely thing right here and pick up a card while you're at it.
Yesterday I went to the Top Drawer show at Olympia with a friend who fortunately knows about such things. Whilst my husband is keen to help, his knowledge ("noone buys those diffuser things, do they?") could be improved.
Now I'm sitting at the kitchen table (with a cup of tea) surrounded by brochures, catalogues, leaflets and price lists trying to make decisions.
I am enjoying myself thoroughly.