For this post, and everything going forward, I am going to go with the presumption that you sense my apologetic tone for the long gap as I think that is so much easier on all concerned. So it’s nearly the end of April and I have almost recovered from Christmas!
The pub garden is progressing although, sadly, we have had some issues that have set us back. It would appear that grown adults, who are respected tradesmen, sometimes take on work for which they are neither qualified or capable. Long story short we are now in the process of replacing the tiling on my garden furniture due to incompetence, expensive incompetence at that. I am not really sharing this as a tale of woe so much as to bring a wry grin to my former colleagues that some four and a half years out of ‘job’ my life is still ruled (and often ruined) by the menace of a hollow ring when I tap something.
From floors to tiles my inability to accept significant voids in bonded joints has served me well and driven my trades to distraction. I have a growing sympathy for the suppliers and colleagues who have faced my challenging woodpecker ways over the years and I am sure some of them will find some measure of karma/solace in my situation. One advantage (or perhaps disadvantage) of being solely responsible though is that I can make the decision to rebuild or change tack without reference to committee or commercial sense and I often do. It is perhaps rather telling that my trades often seem more upset when I sponsor rework than I do, for my there is only the right way.
The pub itself continues to maintain her fair share of the trade available and is making a valiant effort to support the mild insanity of me as the captain of the ship. I remain blessed with the greatest team although once again I find myself looking at how we can supplement our numbers as the busy sessions stretch us more and more. Ellie remains a firm favourite for entertainment but that leaves me with the inevitable quandary that on our busiest sessions we have, by corollary, only got Nick and myself on duty.
The care in the community scheme appears to still be in full flow as I have been threatened with visitations from the devil and god, criticised for my inability to live in the woods and belittled for the fact that I have not met the queen at various times. In one week it became such a concern that I was forced to reread the equality act and reinforce my understanding of ‘legitimate aims’.
In other news I can now confirm that it is summer in the UK. I know that given the periodic rain and cooler temperatures after the weekend there will be some who doubt this statement but there are some firm and unequivocal indicators. The first indicator is that I am wearing shorts and that will be the way from now until winter commences. The second indicator is that I currently have more firewood than I can store, I assure you therefore that summer is here, long may it last!
In the world of Gav very little changes. The skin graft on my wrist has broken again due to a combination of a nail in a piece of firewood, the absence of any sensation in that area and my rush to bring said firewood into the pub. I still have all of my own teeth despite what seemed to me to be a good effort by the hygienist to remove a few of them! Having given way with the optician two years ago however my eyesight has deteriorated at a rapid rate and I am shortly visiting to refresh my prescription and move back (after ten + years) to contact lenses. I remain convinced that the eyesight deterioration is some secret ploy by the opticians rather than age though because it would appear that my sight was stable until I asked them to check it.
