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.