Working 9 to 5

Whilst ironing frantically (is that really possible?) yesterday I began to think I wished I was back to working 9 to 5 . Then it all came flooding back. It was actually 7 to 7 when you took into account the travelling...Nose to tail down the M42 in England. My place of work was on the edge of Birmingham and not exactly a law abiding suburb.
Here I rarely lock my car, the rush hour consists of a school bus and a tractor or two, everyone has time to chat, smiles are frequent, instead of fumes I have clean air, no traffic sounds , just the whiffling of the ducks, so I guess I will stick with this 24/7. After all, its what I choose to do, and I can choose to have the odd 24 doing nothing.

Crichie Folk Festival

Last night Mike and I had a night out!
It is the annual folk festival at Stuartfield (Doric name Chrichie). Our guests were also going to the festival, one being a performer at the evening concert. We had a meal in the Crichie Inn and then into the village hall. Bring your own bottle. Or in my case 6 cans of Tennants. If I have a bottle of wine I forget what happened. The place was packed. The head liner was Paul Anderson, fiddler, pictured. I have seen and heard Paul before and he is fantastic. (Apart from bringing out many a sigh and a phwoar he is a brilliant fiddler). Brilliant evening, all ages, all happy.
Mike went for a second helping this afternoon while I surfed the web for more pictures of Paul. Well he wasn't there this afternoon.............

League of Nations.

An Italian couple, a German lady and two Irish golfers. The Italians and German are in for three nights which is brilliant as it means I only have to make the beds, not strip, wash and iron.
Yesterday it was 24 degrees. The garden bed bottom left hand of picture I weeded in the afternoon before being defeated by the heat.
The yellow oil seed rape is no longer yellow and we await it going brown - and smelly - before it is harvested.
Are people in towns as aware of the seasons as we are in the country?
Soon be Christmas!

Another day over.

The view as I wind down after a busy day.
Our second viewing - I shall not hold my breath. The first viewers decided Greenbrae was "not for them." Which was a shame as they obviously had prepared, knew what they wanted, and how to run a bed and breakfast business.
This day's viewer came with her best friend rather than her husband (!) and I was left feeling more like a National Trust guide than a seller of a house.
In between the viewings we have continued to be busy with guests. Also managed to write off our people carrier so now need to buy another vehicle.
I fancy - always have - a landrover. The old fashioned kind. I am not going to get one I have been told, so long as I can see over hedges so possibly a tractor?

Bookings.

This is where most of our bookings are made - on the computer.
Twice in the last few weeks we have had people turn up and say they have booked a room. Only to be met with a dropped jaw from me and obvious panic in the eyes. Am I finally heading down the senior moment slope?
When I checked I found that the person had indeed made an enquiry, and information had been duly supplied, with the final sentence from me, Please confirm your booking and give an estimated time of arrival. Which they had not done. Oh boy.

Presentation, presentation.

This house has seven bedrooms, seven bathrooms, two sitting rooms, dining room, kitchen, library, miles of corridors, and by next Wednesday it has to be looking its best.... as we have a VIEWING. Scary.

Still here.

Strange in limbo feelings. Everything at a standstill. As we check the internet out on the property sites we can see everyone else is in the same boat. Nothing selling, nobody buying. The credit crunch has us in its grasp.
Having initially decided to take no bookings for b&b after the end of July, we are now taking September bookings. The bookings too are not the same as in past years. The cost of fuel putting many off travelling.
Its not all doom and gloom as we have discovered our hens are still laying. Having thought they had finally run out of eggs to lay, after all they must have laid quite a few whilst being battery hens, we found a great mound of eggs tucked away under the rhubarb. So we wont starve!

Books.

We won't have the luxury of a seperate library when we move. So I have begun to go through the books we have and decide what can go. Tomorrow is the annual book sale at one of the churches in the village. I am bagging up some to take, but I know I will come back with more!
Most of the ones I am taking to donate have been donated by guests. The sort you buy at the airport . I must admit to wondering how some of them ever get published as they are bordering on illiterate. Certainly unbelievable plots.