A million secrets and stale beer

As I relaxed this evening, after my 17 hr shift, I took to old forums to catch up on how my previous projects are running. Firstly I should take this opportunity to say a well done to the boys and girls that are bringing many years of hard graft to life in the excellent 345 it is great to see the cream rising to the top once again, keep it up.

The internet got me a wandering in the way that it does and before I knew it I was looking at some of the huge infrastructure projects that I have been part of over the years. I looked at the new roof garden being installed at Canary Wharf and happened upon ‘pre-public’ videos of the latest addition to a site that I remember being born and have spent months of my life in meetings at.

Those of you who read my ramblings may recall that I have a fascination with restricted access areas and even empty public areas. I have always loved being somewhere the public cannot be or even somewhere they can at a time that they cannot. There is something about jumping off a train platform, wandering a tunnel or opening that ‘no entry’ door that has always given me a smile, after all I can do something that you can’t.

I still get a smile when I walk through the closed pub. The smell of stale beer is a nectar to me and the fact that I get to smell that with my morning cup of tea remains a privilege because that is what I do while you are off doing normal things in the real world. Anyway, having watched these videos, I was once again struck by the fact that I no longer operate in a world where things are measured in millions of pounds or hundreds of tonnes, that world really is behind me.

I thank Robbo for occasional updates and thoroughly enjoy recollecting the insanity of first in class testing (please don’t stop) but it is viewed from a distance now. So where does this leave me? It leaves me where I am meant to be, in a fantastic pub surrounded by great people.

It was great today to see two tourists who were last here in October 2015. Repeat custom is one thing but these guys remembered meeting me (there were no other staff here then) and remembered my name. The passion that I have for this pub is that infectious that people remember it and comeback because they are part of it, could there be a better endorsement of what we are doing here?

So we had some tough days last week as we worked to manage the dichotomy that is ‘old’ and ‘new’ Plough but that is what we do. There is no ‘old’ Plough, there is the Plough and she looks after her own. Watching my lot rally around those who are having tough times is heartwarming, even for my shrunken black heart.

Again this week I have been challenged on the hours I work or the absence of a ‘life’. This is my explanation, this is the reason why (and how) I do this, quite simply it is my passion for this wonderful old pub that drives me forward. This is where the Plough is, and will always be, different for better or worse if you drink here you drink with me in my front room. There are many reasons why the television has not found its way back into my lounge after the building works but they all come down to the fact that I sleep upstairs, I live downstairs. Every second of my life is consumed by the Plough and I am so proud of what we have achieved so far as I am excited about what is to come.

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Warm fridges, grass and bodies

It would appear that this week is ‘everyone’s a doctor’ week. I apologise if my responses have not been what was expected but nobody informed me that this event was taking place. In case you have missed this event as well let me enlighten you, this is a week when everybody can tell you what’s wrong with you apparently.

So according to passers-by I look alternately tired, ill or drawn. Whilst it is marvelous to share your various diagnoses I must point out that these are not medical conditions. I am indeed tired but that is a perfectly predictable and expected result of my work pattern, there is nothing wrong with that. I may be somewhat more tired at the moment simply because of the additional effort that Ms Nature is putting into her fight but this is a cyclical thing and she will tire before me.

I am not pale, I may not be as bronzed or red as those of you who have been enjoying the recent hot weather but that, again, is an expected result of me working indoors. I would also say that I am not ‘drawn’ and since I have no idea what this actually means I am not sure of an appropriate defence other than that. This has happened over a few days hence my presumption that this is a week-long thing I certainly hope that it doesn’t persist any longer!

In other news I can tell you that one advantage of not having anything in your fridge is that when you accidentally leave it open all day there is nothing to spoil. I would strongly urge everyone to remove food from the fridge and place it in the garbage thus countering any accidental risk of spoiling, one cannot be too safe after all.

As the weather improves it is, unfortunately, time to show off my gardening prowess. There are two tools in my gardening armoury, and I have no intention of adding any others, a strimmer and some weed killer. This is another front at which Ms Nature and I clash, why does grass grow so prolifically? You would think that my strict gardening regime of ‘cut it or kill it’ would deter growth but if anything it seems to encourage it! Cutting the garden is like writing lines at school, first I cut the grass down to a level where the garden can be used, then I don’t use the garden, then repeat.

The pub garden will be a wonderful space in the future but there are other priorities right now and there is significant work to do on the garden itself. So for now I have to continue this process of cutting the grass, looking and thinking ‘it would be nice to lie out here in the sun for a few hours’ and then realising its time to open up and heading back in.

After somebody sadly passed away in one of the properties in the street on Tuesday I had probably the best comment from a customer yesterday “Have they brought any more bodies out?” Really? I wanted to explain that they take them out once a week to let the aroma develop or that the house was under siege and the police thought it best to leave him alone for a bit.

 

Nature, ferries and so near

Well as the moving day approaches I am becoming increasingly conscious that the number of tasks seems to grow as the number of days to complete them diminishes. This weekend sees me travelling to an island that is consumed by festival, a fantastic event and a great opportunity to remind people that there is a little island down here!

En route to the island I am stopping in Portsmouth for a meeting with a supplier this saves him travelling across to the island. Meeting in Portsmouth always brings a little frustration as I sit ‘nearly home’ and watch the ferries departing. This will be one of the last meetings I have where we have to agree a venue, future meetings will always be in my pub.

After a conversation with Dave I am now ready to tackle the second wave of plumbers and understand, hopefully, the relative merits of replacement/repair for the boiler. I guess that it may not be the best of starts that I refuse to call a plumber a ‘heating engineer’ but then I grew up before the lunacy of gas safe and other such regulations.

I should see the garden incinerator delivered this weekend and, if the weed-killer has worked, it will get a good christening. This weed-killer was a more routine product so I have yet to see if it measures up to the might of the ’weed grenade’ but here’s hoping. Between bees, gulls and weeds it does feel like half my time is spent battling nature at the moment and then evenings are spent dealing with Ms Nature’s response to the day time battles.

This week finds numbness in my right hand thanks to a carpal tunnel that looks more like a 1920s mine shaft than a sleek modern tunnel. In unison with this the shoulder is refusing to play nicely and seems to have engaged the knee in its latest action. Walking to work yesterday involved alternate determined concentration and combination wince/stumbles. I am, of course, presuming that a weekend of hard labour will move some bits about and improve everything, stand to reason doesn’t it?*

I have sample quarry tiles to review this weekend and a selection of those paint colour books to understand some interior choices. I have had mixed reviews on the exterior grey of the pub but think it will return to a more natural cream in due course. I will have to explain what this colour is to Andrew who remains convinced that the grey is in fact pink! Hoping to see something of the sign writer this weekend and looking forward to giving some sneak previews of the new signs.

*Note that author’s definition of “reason” may differ from that of others

Garbage pixies and hammocks

One of the last few weekends for me on the big island and it was a scorcher. One of the great things about living right on the seafront is that on a sunny day the sound of families playing in the sand fills the apartment. I should caveat that last sentence by saying that it is not such a delight when working night shifts.

Today the ocean is like glass and the sun is continuing to grace us with its presence as the garbage pixies go about their way. For those of you not familiar with garbage pixies allow me to enlighten you. Garbage pixies are mythical beasts that exist solely in the minds of tourists who nurture and protect them for fear that they may be connected to other ethereal beings such as santa’s elves.

The garbage pixies are never seen but legend tells that they congregate around coastal areas with occasional forays inland to visit camp sites. The pixies put great value in garbage, hence the name, and use it for clothing, building materials and food. As I walked to the station this morning I passed repeated offerings made by the tourists to support the garbage pixies. An offering fit for the king of the pixies was laid out along the beach, the roads and almost every available surface. I could almost hear the pixie’s squeal of delight as they counted the used diapers (great for fertilising pixie herb gardens) chip wrappers and bottles.

In case you think that when I am not at the pub I am not working on her then let me put your mind at rest. This weekend has produced the supplier shortlist for fridges and furniture and the supplier ‘long’ list for plumbers. Each of these subjects will be followed up in the week to settle on a supplier of choice. One of the oddities of island life is that the cost of shipping can swing supplier choices dramatically with some accepting the cost and others outright refusing. Roofing quotes are being dissected before they are given an urgent green light with asbestos being an unwelcome tax on that task.

Supplier negotiations are progressing well and should be at least partially concluded this week. Finally I am hopeful of seeing the artwork for the return of the Plough this weekend. I am now officially sick of living between an apartment that is boxed for moving and a pub that I haven’t moved into yet. Pressure of time means that every time I use something I feel compelled to put it in a box ready for moving but I have nowhere to put the boxes!

There are a couple of regular questions that come up with respect to the pub, for the sake of efficiency I will answer them here. The first is accommodation or rather the provision of accommodation. I do not have letting rooms at the pub, there are no camping facilities and I cannot accommodate sleeping bags or hammocks within the bar. There is an excellent and incredibly good value B&B over the road who will look after you if you mention the pub, I will give you their details that is as far as I go on that front. In short, whilst I would love to see you, I own a pub not a hostel or a holiday home.

The second question is invariably “are you excited” I could answer this by directing you to look at previous posts but that is just a tad lazy. Between me and the opening is a single solid month of work all to be achieved whilst living on a building site and pouring money into the bottomless pit I call home. That is such a scope of work that to be honest I can’t see past it at the moment I don’t mean that in a negative way it is just rather ‘all consuming’ right now. Am I nervous? Yes and rightly so given all the plates that I have spinning. But am I excited? I guess the right answer is not yet. Be ‘

N.B. There is no such thing as a garbage pixie nor is there any use for your discarded diapers just because we are near the ocean doesn’t mean the normal rules of civilisation don’t apply