It was not really a very nice day at work. Normally I enjoy my job, since close contact with a lot of interesting different plants, plus human company in the form of my colleagues and assorted customers, with the odd bit of livestock and wildlife, in a beautiful setting, ticks most of the boxes, but today the atmosphere was leaden in both senses. The boss was suffering from hay fever and had broken a link on his tractor, while the owner greeted us with the news that, not to mince words, she was very worried. Trade is still bad, and yesterday was dreadful.
I don't blame her for being worried. I'm a bit worried, and it isn't my money tied up in the business. When I was finishing at horticultural college various relatives and acquaintances on hearing I was going to work in a plant centre asked me if I was starting my own nursery. Running your own business in their eyes ranked above working in a shop, which ranked socially as the pits. I was quite happy to have all the advantages of being with the plants and the customers without the headache of having a significant portion of my savings tied up in perishable stock and polytunnels. So I see the owner's point. On the other hand, it doesn't help things to share it with the staff first thing on a Monday morning. Yesterday it rained relentlessly until mid afternoon, and then there was the first Wimbledon men's final for 75 years with a Brit in it. According to R4 on the way home today approximately one in four of the population were watching. It wasn't a great day for going out shopping.
One of my absolute heroes is Ernest Shackleton, who successfully brought every man home from his Antarctic expedition after their ship was crushed by ice and lost. Shackleton probably was worried, but what he told his crew was that they would be rescued, and then he kept them all busy with games and improvised theatricals and anything he could think of so that they would not have time to be bored and afraid. When you are in charge of people, it pays to keep up a good front. Sharing your candid feelings may make you feel better, but unless it is going to improve the situation, or at least not make it worse, you probably shouldn't.
A subdued little gaggle of staff made their way out into the plant centre. We had been told how important it was to sell, sell, sell. One of the things I discovered through the course of the day is that thinking about selling makes me worse at it. Normally I work on the basis of genuinely liking plants, and wanting people to choose the right thing for their garden, and a combination of enthusiasm and honesty serves. Making a conscious effort to sell seemed to have the effect of making me less convincing at it. We could have done with more customers anyway, but it was a grey, dreary day.
One of the suppliers rang to speak to the manager, who had to tell her that he wasn't going to place an order at the moment because we had so much stock already, he wasn't taking anything this week. She said that he was the ninth customer she'd spoken to today who'd said that. Later on somebody else from the same supplier rang. Her manager? The owner? The pain the weather is causing is cascading through the whole gardening sector. I saw in the paper the other day that Marshalls, the paving slab firm, came out with some dire results, and it's not surprising.
At least I got an odd bit of wildlife, in the form of a frog that I disturbed while I was sweeping one of the shrub beds. They have more pointed faces and a more streamlined air than toads. This one leaped away from my gloved hands in a great arc, then sat safely out of reach looking at me for a long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment