...and I live in a hole.

An investigation is underway.
There are several theories as to why a hole has appeared in the ground of the conservatory.
It's an eight inch diameter hole, about 15 inches deep (yes, it should be in metric) and it was discovered in the undergrowth on Wednesday.
Bob thought it might be a burst pipe but he stuck his arm down the hole and found nothing.
Bev wondered if someone had pulled up a plant and half-inched it.
Janet asked if it could be an animal.
I sent a text to Adrian (who solves most of my problems) and lured him down this afternoon with mention of detective work to be done.
His arm was in that hole quick as you like. He brought a special light. He looked for clues and drew his conclusions.
He reckons we had a mole and then the visiting cat (it visits ALL the time and often hides and stays the night) went looking for it...
We're going to check his theory by filling in the hole.
And hoping.

Four seasons in one day

This is the kind of weather which makes booking staff, ordering supplies and life in general a bit more difficult:

Still, at least it's not raining all the time.

They do

On Friday we hosted a wedding party.
Sharing platters of local salami and tomatoes, our ham, homemade coleslaw and salads, cheeses, mini quiches, olives, bread. Scones and cakes of course.
It didn't take us long to serve all the guests.
There were four of them.
Bride, groom and 2 witnesses.
The groom told us they were being selfish and keeping it from everyone else for a few days.
The bride had requested a table in the garden and for most of the time they had their wish.
Then the drizzle started and they moved into the conservatory to finish their tea.

It wasn't quite as stressful as other weddings we've held.

Top table

We've hosted two small but lovely garden parties in the past two days.
Yesterday we pulled together a few tables to form one long one under trees (it was way too hot in the sun), covered them in tablecloths and set them for high tea for seventeen people. They were celebrating the marvellous couple who are Rex and Glenda. Rex was 88 at the weekend, Glenda turned 86 yesterday.
They drank champagne and tea and ate sandwiches and cakes and scones with cream.
I was asked as I delivered more tea if I knew of a poem about "getting old and wearing purple"?
I went to look it up.
It's called "Warning" by Jenny Joseph.
I read it aloud to the assembled group (any excuse to join the party). It's fabulous.

Then today the same table (different cloths) was used for a middle-aged group of fifteen who are all taught Spanish by the same teacher. They lunched on ham and quiche, elderflower presses, cakes and strawberries and coffee and many went home with a punnet of cherries.

It will be used again tomorrow if the weather stays fine.
Nine people for a late lunch at 4pm.

Ear wigging

Overheard at the weekend while clearing a table:
"It's not a holiday unless you go on a steam train and see a donkey."

Thought provoking.

Hot and busy.
Then rainy and quietish but with an occasional unexpected coach to keep us on our toes.
That pretty much sums up the last few weeks.
My shoulders are like blocks of stone.
At the end of this week the majority of the schools will have broken up and, providing we have good weather, every day will be busy.

Last week I was asked if I'd be interested in a new challenge.
A local attraction needs someone to take over a cafe outlet temporarily and I was asked to consider running it for the summer alongside the tearooms. I'd need a couple of my staff to be there for the month of August and September. All very exciting. There's also a chance to bid to run their new cafe when it opens.
I have slept on it (or rather I haven't - it's rather kept me awake).
I have decided that I only have eyes (and time) for one tearoom.
I am happy with my single child which, eight years on, still needs a great deal of attention on a daily basis.
Attention I am more than happy to give.

This is the time of year when we sell local produce on the counter. For the past few weeks we've had bundles of asparagus. Now that season is over we've moved onto punnets of dark red cherries and gooseberries. We sell lots of both.
The sight of the gooseberries in particular often raises a smile and a comment that they're not seen much anymore...

I love days like this. A random Tuesday outside of the main school holidays can yield interesting visitors.
We had a family from Norway who apparently come to stay locally every year.
Then came the gorgeous Lithuanian couple who couldn't resist a punnet of gooseberries. I felt I should warn them that they're not sweet (after an Italian couple last week thought they were grapes). They told me they LOVE gooseberries and haven't seen them at all since coming to the UK: "Every grandmother in Lithuania has a gooseberry bush in the garden" they told me before eating them raw.

Today's book entries with odd splodge

Today I made my first Elderflower Cake. It won't be the last.