I know that it may seem that there has been an avalanche of posts recently but hey welcome to the winter. Tonight I had a conversation regarding the removal of the middle wall, a job that is committed for October (2 weeks away) and my friend ended the conversation with the famous, and incredulous, words “how much?”
I don’t want anybody to think that I am sleeping well at the moment. The sheer enormity of the task, the disruption and the cost is far from understood and, to be fair, that terrifies me. It is a task that is needed, it is way earlier in the schedule than anticipated and, following a poor summer, way earlier than I am comfortable with but it is the right thing to do. If there is one legacy that I want to leave the Plough with then it is doing right by her.
So we will complete this task, it may be by hook or by crook but it will be done. The pub will look better for it and all agree, I am not sure that I will look better for it but that remains to be seen. For those who know me they will know that this level of risk is way outside of my comfort zone, I am not the man who bets his shirt on a horse (well I wasn’t). So there are two people whose odd philosophies guide me now and neither have their well deserved fame.
Both have been mentioned before in posts but, since I am awake and stressing, I will give them a more formal recognition now:
- Anna Marie Damgaard Kristensesen (AMD) – A business turnaround executive who gave me the most wonderful, and at the time overlooked, insight into the need to spend your way out of failure. Every time that I pay a works invoice I remember her philosophy and think that she is probably making somebody else sign another invoice!
- Andrew Raymond – In the face of adversity this man can find a shilling and throw it at the problem, admittedly the problem probably needs a pound but he will throw that shilling bloody hard anyway. Every time that I stock my cellar at least one keg has his words ringing in my head “if you haven’t got it you can’t sell it”. Most importantly Andrew introduced me to the snowball effect where you keep throwing money at a problem and eventually it will be ok, or the snowball will get bigger and end us all. Luckily neither myself or Andrew know the end answer so we just keep throwing.
I can’t finish the post without thanking Dave Rose for being the mucker that kept me up for another half hour to write this bloody post! I love the Plough and if “it will all come right in the end” isn’t a business plan then clearly it should be.
They say that a lot of the discomfort that we feel is simply in the mind. Perhaps they are right but I can certainly confirm that itching is. The scar on lefty has risen nastily and is driving me insane.
I know that the itch is bad because I am scratching in my sleep. I try my very best to ignore it and to remind myself that there is no feeling there. But it is all to no avail, and the broken skin bears witness to my losing battle. The crazy itching has already spread to righty but now my left hand has joined in. How can that happen? There is not a mark on my hand but it is certain that it wants to be scratched.
In other news, I have confirmed my fame. I am in Lacock this evening and regular readers will know that this is an incredibly picturesque and therefore tourist filled village. As you approach the Red Lion it presents an imposing and photogenic sight. The window sills are only a couple of foot from the floor in this old building which, can you see where this is going?
Yep, yours truly is a feature in another set of tourist photographs, the precise features may be unintended. Coupled with the regular sight of tourists looking up at my apartment I think this confirms my stature as a modern icon. Every time I look out of a window tourists are there with cameras like paparazzi, it’s so tough.
Finally I would like to share with you an advertisement I heard on the TV today. Apparently there is an ‘Alzhiemers walk’ for charity. I may not be an expert but is this not cruel? Will we not end up with poor confused souls wandering without a clue as to where they should be?
Book quotes are coming thick and fast this week, the latest being ‘I would trust that man with my wife’ if that is a mark of trust then I am indeed honoured because there isn’t a person I wouldn’t trust with my wife! Alright that may have something to do with the fact that she is in fact now an ex-wife but hey I am going to use that the very next time the debate comes up ‘dude I would trust you with my wife’.
This morning saw the weather making a special effort to tease some tourists into visiting the coast, we started the morning with a threat of snow but that gave way to glorious sun just in time for the Mums to start thinking a trip would be a good idea and hopefully badger Dads into the drive. It’s scary to see just how reliant so many businesses are on the weather and how many are stretched at this time of year as we head into the ‘season’, good luck to all. The weather must have worked to some degree as the local grocery stores look like they have been under siege all day and I have been treated to the view of chip eaters in their natural environment. Directly opposite my flat is shelter arrangement with seats all of the way around it, the sort of thing that is commonly found at most UK coastal resorts, if you sit on any of three sides you can see the sea but the fourth looks at the road. It is the road side seems the most popular, now I would understand this if people were waiting for buses and the like but no they sit there eating their chips and, in so far as I can see, watching me. I haven’t let the fame go to my head though, I still wander around my flat in various stages of undress and I have even managed to overcome the natural urge to wince when I look down and spy somebody biting down on a sausage.
If the weather really is able to plot and twist to tease us then this supports my theory that time also is not inanimate, I know that I am encroaching on Mr Paynter’s territory here but stick with me. If time was a simple and linear measure then how would it be that on leaving work yesterday with a sensible allowance for making my train connection I ended up just missing the train? I didn’t miss my train of course but I missed the one before it, just missed it actually, by seconds and I believe this was time playing with me. For the first part of the journey time passed extraordinarily quickly, stations whizzed by and the miles were consumed voraciously, hence the early arrival at the interchange, but then just as we approached the momentum was lost and time started flowing like road tar. How many times does this happen to you? Your racing ahead, everything is looking good and then it just slows down and frame by frame you miss your target. Paul once tried to guide me through a book that was way beyond my intellect, we used to have mornings at work around a whiteboard so he could explain such seemingly obvious concepts as bending time but unfortunately they were lost on me, that is until now. I think that time can bend itself and I think it does it to spite us, I may even venture that I detect the workings of Ms Nature in this somewhere.
If you imagine that we are travelling down a road that we shall call ‘time’ and we can only ever see a fixed distance in front then when that path is bent we are mislead into thinking that we are travelling faster because we can see further ahead. So at this point I can see my connecting train, the grocery store still open or the cab waiting but because I am looking to the left or right (because of the bend) I am tricked into thinking it is within grasp when in fact I still have the long road to travel. Are you still with me? If it helps, imagine a very large roundabout and you are approaching from the 6 o’clock junction and heading off at 7 o’clock, although you can see 7 o’clock you actually have to travel around the whole roundabout to get to it.
In summary, time is against us it is trying to confuse us and it is making us late, I haven’t figured out why yet but I am working on it and will report in due course.