Rural Idyll

I have had a wonderful day.
The sun shone but it wasn't too hot.
We were very busy but it was staggered over the whole day.
A former colleague from the Beeb turned up unexpectedly with his children. They were en route from Cambridge to hear his wife speak at the Hay Festival.
I ate my own lunch in the garden.
We didn't run out of bread. Or ham. Or jacket potatoes.
Almost the perfect day.
Marred only by the discovery late this afternoon that the septic tank needs emptying.

Too much information?

Today my son, who is working at the tearooms, took an order at the counter.
"Where will you be sitting today?" he asked and was a little surprised by the response.
"In the conservatory," she replied, "but first I shall be sitting in the lavatory."

Where else in the world?

Yesterday was Bank Holiday Monday so naturally we were busy.

The weather was decidedly mixed which meant that people who ordered and said they would sit outside would be caught out by a rain storm and would then rush inside where tables were at a premium. 

One order slip for three teas and three cheddar Ploughmans suggested the hungry three would be sitting outside. In the downpour. 

We took the trays to the door and called the number, expecting to hear a shout from the conservatory. Not this time.

Under the trees and under umbrellas were three stoic ladies who insisted on eating there. 

The bread which accompanied their meal was a little soggy but they didn't seem to mind.

They smiled throughout. 

Shower in a shower

Today's question is where should we host the baby shower? Inside or out?
It will be hot, so inside will be even hotter. But there's a strong chance of being caught by rain.
The forecast doesn't help very much:

If you can't stand the heat.

Today will be one of those days when adding an apron on top of clothing feels like a mistake. Another layer? Really?

Jackets required

This is a proper heatwave. The fans are all out of the cupboards but they don't make much difference when the oven is on cooking our jacket potatoes.
We thought we wouldn't sell many baked spuds yesterday but we were mistaken.
I took the last two out to a couple in the garden and told them we'd been wrong footed by those who wanted something hot for lunch. The lady smiled and said there was no way she was going to be cooking dinner in the heat so she wanted more than a sandwich for lunch.
We are sweltering so that our clever customers don't have to.
Why has that never occurred to me before?
The ice lollies have been delivered and more ice cream is on order.

Will I ever get this right?

Most of last week was filled with rain. Now we are in Summer.
It's sunny and warm and almost everyone sitting outside.
Yet today was quietish for us. So much so that we had our own lunch at a reasonable time.
The coming weekend is another Bank Holiday - the fourth in the season.
The forecast is looking pretty good and there's a Victorian event at the Court so I am stockpiling food, ordering drinks and begging staff to work.
And growing a knot in my stomach.

Wet Week

The rain continues. The forecast today suggests it will be unrelenting.
Challenges to pass the time continue...
Can Bev get a whole scone in her mouth? Answer: no.
Can Mary balance a cherry tomato on her nose? Not really. But boy can she dab.

I shall be taking my book to work today.

Passing the time...

Today is cold and wet.
I did not expecting a flood of customers so came home to catch up on other jobs. A little ironing, a little blog-writing, a little more ironing...
When we have a quiet day certain members of staff get a little bored.
They start challenging each other.
Mary (71) has been taught to "dab".
Bev, who is particularly small, has been climbing into small spaces. This is the box in which the coffee beans were delivered:

I dread to think what they've been getting up to today...

Thank you

One day last week a gentleman came in on his own, ordered a pot of tea (£2), handed over £5 and told Annie to put the change in the tips jar. She was stunned, tried to give him the change, but he insisted.
The next day he came in again and did the same thing.
While he was drinking his tea in the conservatory he ordered a sandwich (£5) and paid the correct money.
I chatted with him when I took out his lunch. He had a large camera bag. He was in the process of getting to grips with all the camera could do, he said. His grandson was a much better photographer than he, so he was trying to improve. He had been taking pictures of the fountain from all different angles over the past two days.
Later when I was serving someone at the counter he came into the main tearoom, dropped an envelope onto the tips jar and waved goodbye.
I am no photographer, but here it is:

Inside were five one pound coins.
Our mystery man has certainly left his mark.

Indomitable

What a woman.
She wore a floor length, purple, corduroy coat. She leant lightly on a stick but was tall and upright with a twinkle in her eye.
She made a joke about her husband when I greeted her at the door and I liked her instantly.
Later, as she waited for her lunch, I was standing at a nearby table, reserving it for a lady in a wheelchair on her way in. I was looking towards the door.
"Are you looking at me?" said long purple coated lady. I replied that actually I was waiting for a customer to come to take the table.
"Good," she said, "I don't much like being looked at. And I don't like it when those people at church ask me how I am. Do you know what I say?"
I didn't.
"I tell them to mind their own business."
Yes. Quite a force of nature.

Powerless

It wasn't a bank holiday with a bang. It was a bank holiday with a power cut.
In the middle of Sunday's lunchtime service.
But it was a strange sort of cut.
The till remained on.
The fridge light was on, though dim.
The cream whisks went round but turned in slow motion.
The coffee machine wouldn't work at all.
It was a long half hour rendered less painful when we found out that it was a problem not of our making and that Western Power was on the case.
Two bank hols down, and two to go. The next one is not far away...