Open minded

Ordinarily at this time of year I'd be counting down the weeks until we close, worrying about leftover ice cream and thinking about how I'm going to fill the winter months.
Not this year.
We're staying open.
As a trial.
From Wednesday to Friday we'll be opening from 9am-3pm and then 11am-4pm every weekend.
Regular customers seem delighted.
I am rather daunted.
Let's hope it's not too much of a trial.

Those days are over

This afternoon a man asked me whether I come from New Zealand or Australia?
I told him I was born in Dudley, which elicited the usual response - the repetition of "Dudley" with an accent. Not always the right accent but hey ho.
I asked him where he was from?
He and his wife moved from Watford to Birmingham many years ago.
After his wife had gone to sit down to await their order he told me that in their first week in the Midlands she was taken for a prostitute and he was approached by ladies of the night on his way back from the fish and chip shop.
They moved to a different area of Brum soon after.

What the doctor ordered

Bobby is a photographer who uses the Court and gardens for pre-wedding shoots. The brides and grooms have several costumes and use the tearooms loos to change. There's lots of bling and glamour and bright colour.
Last week the groom changed his clothes and then ordered two double espressos.
Both were for him.
Bobby laughed and told me this groom is a doctor.
"Is that how you get through the day?" I asked.
"It's the way I get through today," he replied, "being photographed all day and then a party to go to for the whole night, I'll need it."

Sombre

Changing gear from a busy summer into a quieter autumn is quite tricky. I am still expecting hundreds of people to turn up so I haven't yet changed my milk, cream and eggs order. Of course this means we have way too much. 

I can't get the bread order right either.

Some things are easier to forecast. Ice cream sales are down, hot chocolate sales are up. Pretty obvious really.

My mind is also focused on other things which doesn't help: a memorial service later this week for a friend who died way too young; the departure of my older son to university yesterday;  the twentieth anniversary tomorrow of the Southall rail crash.  I shall be meeting up later this week with two friends who were with me on that train. We shall drink a toast or two, remember the day and think about how it changed us. 

Getting milk and bread orders wrong isn't the end of the world.

Worn out

That was the last full week of the summer holidays.
It was dry, for the most part, which meant we were busy. On Thursday many of the younger members of staff had been invited to go paintballing to celebrate Charlotte's 19th birthday.
I only had a few people left. Turns out that despite persuading one of my sons to stay and work, we weren't really enough. Especially as it was the day of the unexpected coach and unexpected sunshine.
Then came Friday and a local artist held a private viewing of her work at the tearooms: canapés for 34 then a buffet supper. We made a couple of massive pavlovas, as requested. She sold ten of her paintings and when we sold an eleventh yesterday she had to come in to hang more.
Then Saturday evening (we rarely hold events in the evenings - two in a row is absolutely unheard of) we provided pre-concert suppers for 46. This time we made a dozen meringue nests.
Over the two days we used a lot of egg whites (24).
Thank goodness there happens to be someone in my family who rather likes those little Portuguese custard tarts - which is where the yolks came in handy.

I was so happy that it rained yesterday.
This tea-making lark can be rather tiring.

The worst thing about yesterday was that 17 year old Tony (who's worked at the tearooms for almost two years) asked me if I realised that my jeans were ripped. Not across the thigh, or the knee, or anywhere cool.
Down the edge of the pocket on my backside.
They were my favourite jeans. I loved them. And yet they chose to expose me to ridicule. Or just expose me.
I wore a pinny back to front for the rest of the day.