The eight-fifteen start came in handy this morning, as I had time to go and pick a bowl of 'Dumelow's Seedling' before going to work. I meant to yesterday, but forgot. It's not the most beautiful apple, having a dull green, waxy, scurfy sort of appearance, but tastes nice, and our tree crops prolifically in the corner where we've put it, the apples hanging on until they are ripe with great tenacity. I went to pick them after the great storm, assuming they would have blown off, but they were still firmly attached to the branches. An apple is ready to pick when it comes away from the tree at your lightest touch. If you have to pull and twist, it isn't time to pick it yet.
I knew there must be a shoot on the estate, because there were only two radios left, including the boss's one which is stuck permanently on Channel One since he dropped it and broke the tuning knob off. I actually find that rather handy. The person who might have been our first customer of the day turned out to be looking for the way in to the house, because he was on the shoot. The knee length tweed knickerbockers were a givaway, before he asked. He was shocked that we were at work so early, which showed a sort of charming naivetee, though compared to when the day starts in the City, it was quite late.
The next might-have-been a customer was a nurseryman delivering a van load of plants from Devon. They should have arrived yesterday, but he got caught up in the chaos on the A12 caused by a lorry overturning near the M25 junction, which was so bad it made the Radio 5 Live traffic news. He said he had a couple of plants he needed us to look at, to decide whether they were good enough to accept. I didn't think either of us had the authority to say yea or nea on whether to accept plant orders, but we were the only people there were, so we did our best. We weren't entirely sure where in the polytunnel we were supposed to stand the delivery, since when my colleague went over yesterday afternoon to find out, the manager's eager helper said that it was too complicated, and she would come in herself to deal with it, but then the boss said she was not to come in today. There is nothing like regarding people as numpties and refusing to show them how things work, on the grounds that they will only make a mess of it, for ensuring that they do get it wrong.
There was a distinct shortage of cake in the cafe. My colleague got some moist ginger slices out of the freezer, and stood them on top of the cappucino machine to defrost. I'm sure that for the cafe to ever succeed, it has to operate consistently. I wouldn't arrange to meet a friend there, when I was never sure in advance if there was going to be any cake, or anybody on duty who could work the cappucino machine.
Overall it was a quiet day, the takings boosted by a young couple buying fruit trees. I recognised them from their previous visits, and their charming small daughter, whose principle phrase is still Mummy, I'm hungry. Work was not quite finished when I got home, as I had to write a newsletter. The owner asked for it on Thursday, but I was so busy with the garden and the kitchen cleaning, I never got round to it, and anyway I knew she wasn't going to do anything with it before Monday, when the woman who works in the office comes in. But tomorrow I'm going to a concert after work, though I fear I'll miss the first part, and after the concert is the AGM, which I have to attend because I'm taking the minutes. I might skip the cheese and wine, as I'll be driving (so no wine) and have hands you wouldn't want to touch cheese with if you were going to eat it, but I didn't think I'd feel like writing a newsletter by the time I got in. I might have slightly overclubbed things, since on Monday night I'm doing a woodland charity talk to a garden club, so I ought to mug up on that later as well.
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