You can’t run but they should pay

I am sorry to say that I have to start with a little rant today, please bear with me. As we know we are in very difficult times and I, for one, applaud the way that our government have supported and protected us. I am surprised and saddened that the business community has not all worked with that support to support those who we employ and who need it most.

Whilst many in the business community have acted to support their employees, fully aware that the state will step in at some point to assist with that burden, many haven’t. I have heard countless stories of staff being told that they will receive furlough payments (80% of earnings) as and when the state pays the employer.

I am not talking about the millionaire businessmen who have been shown to be the self serving ungrateful sods that we always knew they were. I am speaking of small businesses who are the soul of our community and whose staff are the soul of their businesses.

I am sorry but if your business runs so close to insolvency that it cannot fund a few weeks payroll, in the knowledge that this is state backed, then you are not actually in business. You are in the big chair, the boss, the one who takes the risks, this is what YOU do, not your staff. Your staff come to work, work hard for you and need your support.

You are turning away from your staff in their time of need and you do not deserve their support or respect. I have heard the excuses, its been a slow year, we have had expenses, suppliers still need paying…. Man up, the state has guaranteed you support you only have to buffer this for your employees so if you don’t have the cash then use the overdraft, load the credit card because your staff need you to be a boss.

It now appears that my inability to purchase more of one type of paint was a blessing since I am 60% through and not started the second of the two tins that I have. I think gloss may also win out so its looking good, well by good I mean bloody boring!

A courier delivered a parcel today and we were discussing how we are respectively getting on and I mentioned the constant debate about speeding up to get it done versus the risk of finishing and having nothing to do. “You still got the deck to do” was his response, followed rapidly by “after all you already did my van”. This was the guy that answered that question that bugs us all …’how far does 5 L of decking oil go in a long wheel base sprinter van’. At least we know now mate*

I noticed this morning that one of the ducks has turned his back on us and seems to be protesting about something. I can’t imagine what his problem is after all we are all in the same boat. A little panic ensued when Dave sent me a picture of an escaped duck in his neighbours garden. Could the mardy blighter have travelled to Derby? I found the duck, still moody, on his stool and we worked out that whilst he would merrily have gone to Derby he respects the government advice about travelling and anyway he can’t afford the ferry.

On the subject of ducks, special mention has to go to Tiggy for hunting out an image of the special duck which can remain in his custody for as long as is possible.

 

*The answer, for the curious, is it goes everywhere

Touched up, jilted and muddy

Around 8 in the evening on one night last week a young, 18 to be precise, lady walked into the pub and proceeded to have a tantrum…

“I can’t believe it, why would you do that to me? I was at the BLOODY church, stood at the alter in my dress and you didn’t turn up!”

Me: “Ermmm…”

“You’re a bastard a total bastard how could you do that to me? You left me crying in my wedding dress!”

“Babe we said Totland church, I was there waiting where were you?”

“Don’t give me that I KNOW where you were you were drunk, on OUR wedding day you were drunk what a bastard”

At this point she collected herself, straightened her clothes and smiled sweetly “Disaronno and diet coke please, Love you Gav”

This is not a scene from a movie or a joke this is actually what happens when you are not just a pub landlord but the landlord of the Plough.

Two groups of tourists witnessed this scene and I am not quite sure what one of the fellas was actually thinking when he noted that I was ‘in trouble’. Did he think that marrying half your age was normal? or did he think I was offering ‘Jim fixed it for me badges’? We will never know but I hope he reads this one day and it takes him someway to understanding the strange version of humour that we have here.

I have a customer who feels that the arrival of shorts is an opportunity to molest me. When I say that she puts her hands up the legs of my shorts when my hands are full I am not doing the situation justice. The hand in question travels so far up it is often stopped only by my waistband!

I have growled and barked on many an occasion but said customer is adamant that it’s just a bit of fun despite it being entirely one-sided. This weekend, whilst removing a parasol I felt a hand up my leg and barked. The hand was removed and reappeared on the other leg which resulted in “if you keep touching my leg I will kick you in the f*cking face”.

You would have thought that this was a reasonably clear demonstration of unhappiness but when some other customers pointed out this interpretation they were met with “oh he loves it”. It was at this point that simple genius came into play, a perfect demonstration that the best drunk logic comes from another drunk:

“He has just offered you a free kick in the face I don’t think he likes it at all”

And in that one sentence we seem to have resolved the trauma of wearing shorts in the pub, simple genius.

I will leave you with an update on project garden. We are now entering week 12 and have removed two walls, around 90 tons of soil and 20 tons of rubbish (concrete, brush etc). If this sounds significant then allow me to put it in some perspective, we have just cleared the corner and are now actually in the garden area. To paraphrase an old ad ‘if Carlsberg did gardening’

Evidence of madness….

I have just realised that, for all the recent discussion over the ladies toilet project, I have not actually posted any pictures. I would say that 50% of my customers don’t see the ladies but, given most of them have a professional interest, that is not true. Nonetheless many of the blog readers and many of my customers will not see the transformation of the toilets so it seems only right that I should share them here.

It is probably worth reiterating that the toilets, of themselves, were not a project that I needed to do. I needed to ‘steal’ some area from the ladies for future garden access and in order to do this the toilets needed demolition and, therefore, rebuilding.

As with everything at the Plough, despite many shaking heads, we continued with the policy of doing the best that we could do. There is no benefit in trying to cut corners or reuse (except for the obvious short-term cash saving) do the job once and do it right is the Plough way.

So here is the evidence of yet another capex at the Plough. First off, a couple of shots of how the toilets were:

Next, for the geeks, a couple of work in progress shots:

And finally some (nearly) completed shots, this was just before a live music session so almost a ‘pre-launch’ the fans are in and the grouting is finished now!

I hope that you will all agree that once again an abject lack of design skills or colour matching has been overcome by passion for the old place.

Why finish before you start?

In keeping with my policy of never standing still this week has seen the planning application go in for the next project while the paint is barely dry in the ladies! Two relative ‘simple’ changes will see the addition of a door to the garden from the bar and the removal of a ‘lean to’ arrangement in favour of something more permanent.

Of course there is no such thing as simple in a pub and on top of that we have to actually create a usable space from the wilds that are the garden and protect the building from further damp issues (in that area at least). The garden work can start in advance of planning so, as the weather improves, we should be starting shortly. Hopefully there is not too much for me in this project although the garden will need improved CCTV and some lighting and the extension itself will need electrics and fitting out.

I very much doubt that we will have the garden operational by the Summer, although I hope we will snatch the end of it so at least during the Winter months people know what they are missing! The ladies toilets have been well received and I am now, hopefully, down to the occasional person feeling the need to tell me how good they are. Walking back to the pub today I was pleasantly struck by how good she is starting to look outside compared to what I purchased  but, as ever, it was only a fleeting smile. Almost as soon as I thought how good she looked my mind was filled with the unfinished tasks, the things that are yet to complete, and I felt guilty that we have so far to go.

Thanks to all the visitors for reminding me that year on year this pub looks better and improved, sometimes its hard to see when you are submerged in ‘to do’ lists but just occasionally when the sun catches her right….

 

Reflections of progressive lunacy

As we slide into the ‘pre-festive’ slump I thought a project update was in order so here goes.

The rebuilding projects this year have not been as obvious as they were last year but nonetheless the building has seen another year of significant investment and improvement. This year we have actually:

• Stripped, re-decked and re-roofed the majority flat roof with a membrane system.
• Replaced a further 7 windows, 1 door and porch with hand-made oak to match the first phase.
• Built a bin store to house the growing collection of refuse receptacles.

As an indication of the complications of pub life, especially when an engineer is commissioning works, let me expand on the last item the ‘bin store’. The task was as simple as it sounds, that is to build a store in which to place bins, but nothing ever turns out that easy though does it?

At the North end of the site there was a small, and rather pointless, patch of grass and this was (after some consultation) considered to be the best place for the bin store. Now if we are digging up the grass then we should, of course, replace the concrete all around the North end and improve the drainage, after all if a jobs worth doing…. The boundary fence in this area was supported by wooden posts set into concrete, if we are digging the concrete up it would make sense to replace with concrete posts wouldn’t it?

If the posts are being replaced it would make sense to replace the fence with close boarding wouldn’t it? after all there is no point in doing the job twice. A block work shed is all that is required for the bins but…. its roadside at the North end of site, wouldn’t it look better in pressed stone? are you getting a feeling for how the little tasks develop in the pub?

So what you see below is what two months of work culminates in, well its a bin store of course.

End

Front

Long view

It rests on new concrete, uses new drainage and is bordered by new fencing it is, in short, what happens when an engineer designs a shed!

After months of rumours regarding what we were building my bins are now comfortable and the envy of every other bin in the street! But the shed looks right, it suits the building and suits the longevity with which I view this project.

Of course what you don’t see and really can’t appreciate is the dance which I go through to engage the builder on these projects. I always kick off with ‘I’ve had a thought’ which is cleverly countered by the builder declaring that he has to be somewhere else and promptly leaving. Over the course of a month or so I keep bringing up the idea that I have had in order firstly to let him know that it won’t go away and secondly to persuade him that the more I am left alone the more elaborate my idea will become.

After four to six weeks I have the builders attention and we scale back my madness to a workable project with an idea of when it will start. As we get closer to the start date the builder will concede more points and also add several ‘we might as well’ items each of which is added with the requisite shake of the head.

Finally, just before we start, I will get a request for a drawing. Of course I don’t provide a drawing, since none exists, but we sketch some stuff over a pint and walk around the site. This last stage is critical and seals the deal, it also usually happens the day before we commence! In case he should ever venture on to this blog I will caveat this description by saying I wouldn’t want it any other way and he is a top class builder.

Next years project is the garden but again this is far more complex than it sounds. Firstly we have retaining walls to build and fencing to erect, then the soil level needs to be reduced to a workable level which will involve the removal of over 100 tons of spoil. Toilets have to be moved around in order to provide access to the garden and repairs made to the 1800s wall which has been rotting under the soil for decades. Like any project we have added some ‘while we are there’ tasks so an extension is going on to the rear in order to make a lean-to space more permanent and therefore more usable.

The architect has started work on the plans and after Christmas I will start the dance with the builder. For those of you who are wondering how we fund these projects let me let you into a secret, I am also wondering. In so far as the business I am a firm believer in a quote attributed to the American football coach Lou Holtz:

“In this world you are either growing or you’re dying so get in motion and grow”

In my view stagnation does not maintain a stable business rather it slowly erodes it. As business owners we need to reach out and take the risks that enable our businesses to grow and develop.

 

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.

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