Author: aspinalllucy

Menagerie News

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In our Mallorcan ex-orange-farm oasis, there is little of drama or wild adventures or day-long mountain hikes, but there are menagerie reports.

So, last time I mentioned the chickens who burble about. There are three of them, with the black one clearly bottom of the pecking order. 

She chases after the other two burbling fast and high, ‘ Wait for me, wait for me, please wait for me….’

We feel sorry for her as the other two clearly treat her with whatever disdain hens can muster, and these two it seems have channelled disdain from a master – they must have seen how Jacob Rees-Mogg thinks of people who can’t afford nannies.

The Best beloved saved a crust of tuna empanada for her to give her a much need treat and boost to her self-confidence, but it was rapidly confiscated…

The cockerel has taken it upon himself to come round to our’s and remind (particularly the BB) there is time to rise in the morning – about 7am – and a point after which siestas should come to an end – apparently that is 3.45 – how very Spanish.

And the rabbit, who had kept its distance, had a change of plan – and it appears, has developed a new, very firm plan.

Being under our sofa or bed is a cool place to be in the heat of the day and that will do fine thank you, is the long and the short of it,

When I got back from the market this morning and Nick was poolside, I was rather surprised to find shortly after putting my basket of provisions down the rabbit was taking a professional interest in its contents.

When I tried to shoo it out, it rather determinedly I thought, turned tail and went under the sofa.

As I wanted to go to the pool and not shut it in our rooms, I tried to get it out. It came out and went under the bed, out from there into the bathroom, out from there under the sofa…..

I tired a trail of cucumber but the rabbit clearly has the same views on cucumber as the BB and Roald Dahl, so the trail went cold.

Whilst I was getting changed, it made the mistake of deciding a breath of air on the terrace might be in order and I shut the door behind it. 

Some time later, as they say, when I got back to prepare our picnic on the terrace the rabbit was waiting.

Getting lunch provisions out of the room and onto the terrace was a woman and rabbit game of me having to bring out one item at a time so I could shut the door behind me.

After lunch it seemed to have disappeared so we could leave the door open.

As I write this I was wondering whether the rabbit had taken itself off to another more promising human location when out of the corner of my eye, I saw it emerge from our room – no doubt being reminded by the cockerel that siesta time was up.

Burbling

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For the second year running we have (hopefully) slipped between Covid clutches to make it abroad.

(I would quite understand if that sentence was enough to make you want to stop reading instantly and indeed there is nothing much to this piece, so feel free.)

Last year it was a last minute trip to Florence and Tuscany after lying in bed one night and hearing on the radio that Forence was ‘deserted’.

It was marvellous but when we arrived at our agri-tourism place in gorgeous sunshine, we listened to the other guests saying how much they were looking forward to a break in the sweltering weather – due the next day. It did.

And, no spoiler alert necessary given our track record, the lovely taxi driver who took us from the airport to our exceptionally lovely hotel, said,’ Well it has been very, very hot and there is a drought – but thankfully the weather changes tomorrow.’

And there is rain and thunder popping up in the forecast all over the show.

Now though it is cloudy and sunny, with a nice breeze and no rain (as yet) and warm enough to be sitting on ‘our’ terrace in a t shirt and shorts ‘talking’ to you.

We are staying in a converted orange farm. (A lot of Majorca has been given over to tourism as you might have expected.) 

We have one of the converted outbuildings which gives us a bedroom, sitting room, bathroom, terrace and our ‘own’ bit of the extensive grounds.

I hear your exasperated sigh at this litany of privilege and luck and the feeling of how unnecessary it is to gloat – and I know.

But with all that, we have more delight. We have chickens and they along with the long-eared rabbit have free rein.

Whilst we have only seen the rabbit on the main terrace (during dinner and breakfast), the chickens and cockerel have been over to make their introductions. 

The hens have a quiet, rather high pitched burble and they burble very pleasantly, pottering around and mentioning they are just a tiny bit peckish (sorry) and the cock decides pragmatically that a ear-splitting cock-a-doodle-do right this minute might be a little tactless.

They get some crumbs from our terrace-picnic and then they wander off, wander back in case another picnic crumb feast is available, and repeat.

Not sure they will bother in the rain……

Oxfam Needs a Green Sofa

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I have an Oxfam plan  – but it may well not work out in practice so I am putting it out to you to imagine – because there will be only one photo. 

(Of course if it works, there will be lots more photos in another blog, or several….)

Assiduous reader, if you are still with me, you may well know that we have a window and table display to sort out.

The window lasts for two weeks but the table needs changing every week – you need books and extra supplies to keep them both filled when pesky customers start buying your display.

But this idea needs only one, or two, or a few books.

So, you walk into the shop and see a slightly battered old green Edwardian sofa.

It would be cleaner than it is now – but still not a pristine sofa.

Now, every week you would see a tableau.

Someone has just got up to make a cup of tea, go to the loo, answer the door, or whatever.

Their ‘life’ is left behind on the the sofa with room for a customer(s) to sit down if they need to.

( Our still-away cat has always refused to have sitting opportunities in the shop – one of the reasons why this might not work  –  but we have a demographic which appreciates the chance to rest while looking at books.)

You need to know that all the books mentioned are open and laid down – the sofa sitter has just put them down when called away.

So, back to your view of the sofa. These area few of the tableaus you might see.

You see some knitting, a cardigan and a pile of 1950s magazines.

There is a dog lead, a winter jacket, a bag of dog treats and a book on dog training.

Some wrapped Christmas presents, some sellotape, some Christmas cards and ’Twas The Night Before Christmas book or Its A Wonderful Life DVD.

And while I am on the festive theme, a dinner jacket and women’s sparkly bolero thrown over the back of the sofa, with her shoes discarded too. You could have a book on hangover cures…

A basket of clothes needing ironing, an iron (we still have four for those of you who have been reading for a while) and a copy of 50 Shades of Grey or The Handmaid’s Tale or The Female Eunuch.

A pair of binoculars, muddy boots on a newspaper sheet, a camera, a notebook and a book on bird-watching.

An Oxfam throw, a mug, packet of lemsip, a hot water bottle and a copy of Cold Comfort Farm.

Another Oxfam throw and some chocolate. DVDs such as when Harry Met Sally, Brief Encounter, or other ‘love’ films, and a copy of Graeme Green’s The End of the Affair.

A pile of old leather-bound books, a pair of slippers and a pipe.

A waistcoat and posh walking stick, maybe a hat, and a copy of a P G Wodehouse.

Laptop, notebook and phone and a novel – should have been working from home but got a bit distracted….

Cookery book, pinafore, shopping list, table plan, some napkins, and a note saying, ‘ You can’t get Yotam Ottolenghi ingredients in Petersfield.’

I think that is enough for now, but I have a longer list. Of course, I do.

We shall see if this ever works but I really hope it does.

Unearthed Treasures

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All gold mines must run out in the end, but we have still got some nuggets found in the dusty nooks and corners of the Oxfam shop’s upstairs rooms.

I could go on about how much this massive clear out is affecting us volunteers – who would have previously heard the sound of hoovering on a Wednesday afternoon? Who would have thought people would been keen to clean down the benches on a Friday afternoon or taken some mugs home to go through the dishwasher – and indeed who would have expected someone to say they were going to source a cafetière to make coffee a more palatable option……?

We mice are on a roll.

Now, to the uninitiated the back rooms of the shop would still look a chaotic mess, but to those of us who have been initiated it looks organised, tidy, under control, managed, purposeful  – and hoovered.

But enough of that, this is about more unearthed treasures.

We have amongst our number, a philatelist and when I unearthed a box of stamps and stamp albums, he was on my speed dial.

He took them home and I heard nothing more about it – though I did find a returned bag of worthless stamps which are now with out decoupage artist. I mentioned her before in case you need to back-track a couple of blogs.

Anyway, today he came in for a shift on the till. I was a bit (just a bit) cock-a-hoop because we have taken £600 on Tuesday and Wednesday (combined, let’s not get carried away) so it means we are again well on (my) target to get more than £1,000 for the week. 

But the takings for this morning were only £86, and I was a bit downbeat. 

‘I have got the money I have raised from selling those other stamps and it will go in the till this afternoon,’ he said.

I decided to wait until tomorrow to see the final total for today, so told him not to tell me how much.

I am pretty sure he thinks I am an idiot, or at the very least and most polite, suffering from a  bout of bizarre behaviour but I am going to wake up tomorrow with a small buzz of anticipation.

So the unearthed stamps have done their job.

Meanwhile as they say, I also unearthed four boxes of old and dated cameras. This is one of them (now dusted.)

And by unearthed, I mean some were under a bench behind yet another box of padded envelopes ( we could create a whole extensive ward of padded cells if needed), more under another bench behind three boxes of clarinet music….

Anyway, another volunteer does corporate filming and so knows his way around cameras.

He also knows about lighting so has fixed the lamps used for photographing the clothes we put online and has sourced some new special bulbs which had previously been declared as ‘too expensive’ to buy – they are £12 each. 

I have ordered two. Yes, me on no authority except that when we are taking £1400 a week, it makes sense to pay £24 to get the photos looking good. And yes, I am an unrepentant mouse.

So, back to the cameras.

He looked them over and knew what he was talking about.

Most were just those small cameras we all had for holiday snaps and are worthless, but some are lovely delights and some are worth putting on the internet.

The ones going in the shop are more attractive artefacts than anything a photographer would want to use, but when they are this lovely who cares?

I think this is a Kodak Junior?

So, we are doing a window on photography with books and the worthless camera stuff, and a table with the pretty delights we can sell. It is not done yet so if you want photos you will have to settle for these for now.

The cine camera works and has its own leather case and is yours for about £25…..

Meanwhile, under a previously mentioned stack of chairs, I found a sealed cardboard box – either never opened or opened and re-taped up.

Either way, inside was a whole collection of the postcards of first day stamp covers.

They are all pristine and absolutely lovely.

We have them out for sale at 5 for £1 and I think that maybe too cheap but hey ho, they will make money for Oxfam which they certainly were not going to do in a sealed cardboard box, under some chairs, upstairs.

When I was trying to corral all the padded envelopes – and do you know I found some in the electricity meter cupboard the other day – I wanted to put them on the top of some shelving.

We use padded envelopes to send out stuff bought online – but not by the box load, so they needed to be labelled, easily found and stored out of the way. Simples you’d have thought….

On the aforementioned top of the shelving, it turned out there were about 20 Oxfam produced cookery books.

They were published in 2010 so part of our new stock for that year, and maybe 2011. And probably not since.

So they could have been up there for a decade…..

But they were fine – if a little dusty – and though their barcode didn’t register on the till, we did not let that deter us.

I put them out on a bench and left a note to offer them to volunteers – a small thank you for all they have been doing – include hoovering.

When everyone who wanted one had taken one, we priced the rest and put them out for sale. They have sold.

Putting The Pieces Together

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This is a blog I wrote in November 2019 and apparently forgot to post.If you are interested in books, it will keep you going until more news of what is happening at the moment. It is not a bad read – though I say it myself and might well be wrong….

I have before complained about someone buying the very artefact I have built an Oxfam display around.

I know I have to sell it, but sometimes I wish that art gallery practice of just putting a red dot on it until we are ready to dismantle the display could operate – perhaps it could but I have never quite had the nerve.

This week artefact ‘stealing’ happened twice on one day.

Yes, really.

The table was, of course, a display of war and poppies. And recently someone donated a picture frame with a photo of a soldier, a notice of his bravery at Basra in 1917 and a very faded ( you would need a magnifying glass and patience to read it) letter presumably relating to what he had done.

I had piled up books and this picture on the table ready to arrange them into a display and gone out to go to get some milk.

Now, it is a rule that for Oxfam bookshop customers, there is nothing on the carefully arranged shelves as interesting as a haphazard, not yet displayed pile of books and stuff.

So, I was not entirely surprised when I came back to find my brilliant and unflappable colleague reporting that someone wanted to buy the ‘picture.’

Upstairs another good colleague was rootling around on Google to try and find mention of this soldier and therefore any idea if he was a little bit famous.

But nothing – no wikipedia, nothing except a mention in the London Gazette.

We did realise that to anyone from his family doing ancestor research, this would be a valuable item but tracking him down and then members of his extended family doing research would take a lot of time – time we don’t have lying around.

And, there is a bird in the hand argument.

So I went downstairs to talk to my colleague who had the customer’s number and my Best Beloved had called in, and was looking at the image.

Between us, we decided it was not a lot of monetary value but we would try say £9.99 and settle for £5.99 if haggled into it.

But my unflappable and brilliant colleague called him up and ignoring the collective ‘wisdom’, told the customer he could have it as the special price of £15. 

Ten minutes later he had called and collected it.

That afternoon, I was discussing the next window display with a good colleague.

Since our special window display person is currently indisposed, the role has fallen to me – this, it turns out was not a role I had to fight off all comers to take on.

Anyway, trying to maintain her high standards is proving a challenge and the current window was a good idea but not a success.

My colleague suggested using a small table with a half done jigsaw on it and lots of more puzzles on the wall along with puzzle books.

That reminded me that I had an old jigsaw on a shelf somewhere, waiting to be looked at, and how nice would that be half done with its wooden box propped up.

This was a puzzle with the counties of England and Wales on one side and the kings and queens of England on the other ( up to Edward VII if you are interested.)

I took to it my afternoon colleague on the till and asked if he would put it together to see if we had all the pieces.

The pieces were all in the shape of the counties so apart from the straight edges, none of the pieces were traditional jigsaw shapes.

I left him to it and then, needing some rubber gloves to clean silver, more on that some other time, I nipped out.

As I was leaving the shop, a couple of customers were talking to my colleague about the jigsaw.

When I got back, he had finished and all the pieces were there.

The customers had gone, but one of them had asked that when we found out how much it was worth, could he have first refusal.

So, again, I was upstairs Googling about to try and find out the price.

There was one which was the Scotland equivalent and someone was asking £600 for it but I did not think that was going to be realistic.

There was another on ebay for £40 but it had pieces missing – bound to severely affect the price.

Then I found an auction site which was willing to reveal the hammer price. Now, it was a lot with other things involved so I did some calculations and discussed it with my jigsaw-doing colleague and we thought £100.

But, inspired by my morning colleague’s efforts, I called the customer and said, ‘£150.’

He said, ‘£100.’

I said, ‘Cut the difference and £130’

He said, ‘I’ll be round in three minutes.’

And he was.

Of course, the displays will go on but sometimes its a shame not to have the A list stars on show.

Titivating

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The bread and butter of an Oxfam bookshop is re-stocking, refreshing, making look good, making the shop look cared for  – and that involves culling/rejecting/sending books to a central warehouse where they might get another life- chance.

( I am sorry if you are wincing at this point, but we have to be ruthless in our standards if we want to be a quality second-hand bookshop that happens to be raising money for very good causes.)

This is the result of the alarmingly many donations on Saturday – yes just one day – again I am sorry but we do have to do it.

Anyway, the word of last week was titivating.

I was surprised that some of our volunteers didn’t know that word, but one fellow (young) volunteer looked it up and said, ‘Ah now I understand.’

Oxford English Dictionary says: ’titivate something – to improve the appearance of something by making small changes.’

So, once you have done the ruthless bit of culling books, you have to look around the shop and titivate it.

For example, do you know what a front-facer is? Of course you don’t, why would you? but once I have explained it, it will be obvious.

It is a book (on a stand) which had its cover facing you. You might be surprised to know how many of them sell compared to books which only show you their spine. 

Have a look when you are next in a bookshop – they will all have them.

So, front-facers need to look good, and then they sell and then you need to find another one which looks as good – and repeat.

Shelves need to look full. Half empty shelves never sell – they look too sad and tired.

So, you have to fill up shelves and that means having stock to fill them with. 

Given that we can’t order our stock, that can mean juggling.

We were short of history – which we never usually are – but we were.

So, we moved a shelf of Folio Society books and used them to fill a shelf and used the history books on that shelf to ‘fatten’ up the shelves above.

When we get more history, we will move the Folios again.

But you can’t just fill up any shelf with what you have lots of. You can’t put ‘humour’ or ‘self help’ under history – not really….

And whilst I am on the subject of history, let me tell you about some treats of books which are now for sale on the internet.

One small book and three weighty tomes.

The small book is a ‘finger book’ and was given to young men going off to WW1 by, I am told, by godparents and was designed to be slipped into a uniform pocket.

I have no idea what story this little book has to tell, but it is a lovely, and possibly, sad thing.

And, if that book could tell a story, these books actually do.

They are a glimpse of the social history of Portsmouth.

They are the record of the council’s deliberations and decisions in 1913,1914 and 1918 – not least the Education and Distress Committees.

It is the index which gives you an insight into the attitudes and decisions of the policy/rules makers of the time.

I will leave you with some images of that.

But just before I go, I will tell you that the result of all of us titivating, we took £1411.10 last week – we are very ‘chuffed’ which according to the Collins dictionary is ‘pleased, delighted, gratified, etc.’ And we are.

and some more

Councillor Windibank?

More Clearing Out And Some Delights Too

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So, we are on a roll in Oxfam and there is lots to tell you, dear reader. ( If this makes no sense, I’m sorry but you will have to refer to the previous post.)

We have been busy clearing out – and under sorting benches, behind stacks of chairs (as previously mentioned), in nooks, crannies and corners, on the top of other stuff, under other stuff, in the store room – all covered in dust.

In plastic crates, in sagging cardboard boxes, in mysterious packaging, we have found stuff.

Miss Haversham eat your dusty heart out. Our two hoovers have been busy.

(Mind you before we get to the delights let me tell you that most of what was found was in the re-cycle bin before you could say, well, pretty much anything.

Oxfam promotions from last Christmas, two boxes of leaflets from a campaign in 2016, cookery books published by Oxfam in 2010 – mind you we put some of those out in the shop and offered the rest to volunteers as a small thank you for their work, especially at the moment.

Meanwhile, so far we have had three volunteers doing tip runs.)

But, some of the stuff is a delight and worth good money, but more of that later.

Well, go on then, enough of the clearing out, let’s do some of the delights now.

So, you know (from the previous blog) we have unearthed two boxes of old postcards.

One of our creative volunteers suggested – as they are not valuable – they could be made into decoupage panels to hang either side of our corner cabinet.

(Now we have only got that out in the shop rather than being permanently, shop manager-banished, to the cobwebbed corridor behind the scenes because the lovely area manager said – ‘Yes, let’s get it out and use it.’ Which we did.)

So, I put a call out on our village/hamlet WhatsApp group and asked if anyone knew anyone who did decoupage.

Of course they did – just like they did when I needed a skull for a Shakespeare display…..

So, we have a decoupage artist (and her artist-group friends, I gather) designing and making panels and our old (worthless) stamps, postcards, bits of stuff found in old books, old magazines, and and… will be transformed and I promise a photo when it is done.

OK, more delights?

Oxfam does good and popular cards but like all retail merchandising, we have old lines which are retired and new lines which come in.

There was a box of discontinued lines in the stock room and one of our volunteers said she had asked to put them out as their barcode still registered on the till, so they were saleable and they were heavily discounted – a bargain indeed.

She had been told she couldn’t as they had to wait to be returned to Oxfam for pulping but when we asked the the lovely area manager (for future reference, LAM) she said, ‘Why not. Let’s see what happens.’

We did, and our sales for Oxfam-produced goods went from about £50 the previous week to £200 the next week.

Now, I am pretty sure Oxfam would rather have the money than the cards to pulp….. I am not sure what £100 does in Yemen but I would bet it feeds a few children.

Enough of delights, or one more?

There are a few to chose from so you might find others in later instalments.

We have traditionally/always/in the teeth of good evidence/said this is too high a price point/  priced our CDs and DVDs at £2.99.

We, that is the two main CD and DVD volunteers, have lobbied for three years to have the price reduced. A combination of Spotify and Netflix etc meant our sales were falling. 

We did a survey of every charity shop in Petersfield, Chichester and Winchester and visits to any Oxfam shop we cam across on our travels came up with a comprehensive/irrefutable argument to reduce the price to £1.00.

The answer was no. Repeatedly no. The argument was you would need to sell three CDs at £1.00 to get the equivalent of one sale at £2.99. And anyway, it was Oxfam policy and therefore could not be changed.

That only works if indeed you do sell one at £2.99.

So, we asked the LAM if we could do the £1.00 pricing thing and she said, ‘Yes, of course.There is no central policy on pricing of CDs and DVDs’

So we did.

We have never sold as many CDs and DVDs as we have in the last few weeks.

We were endlessly re-filling the racks.

Yesterday, when I was on the till, a man bought 14 CDs and was chatting about how great it was to add to his collection. I asked if he would have bought them at £2.99 and he said he would have bought two of them.

He asked me to round up his ‘bill’ to £20 so I did.

( We made £268 yesterday which for many city Oxfam shops is nothing, but for a shop in a market town which was making about £100 per day, this is good news.)

Which leaves me with the the tantalising ‘promise’ another blog about unearthed really special old bellows cameras, some lovely old books from the 1700s and early 1800s, plans for Christmas and more….

Meanwhile can I tell you that for the last three weeks (and hopefully for weeks to come) we have made more than £1,000. It may not impress you but for us volunteers it is pretty impressive given that the shop was taking £600 – £700 a week. 

Yes we as a society have opened up which no doubt has helped sales, and yes takings fluctuate but on your behalf I would like at ask the amazing volunteer group who are keeping the shop not just afloat but sailing with a lovely breeze behind them, to take a bow.

A therapeutic clear out

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I am back in Oxfam (temporarily) and it is lovely – filling an Oxfam-shaped hole in my life – and below are some of the reasons why.

Now, I am a probably a bit over-excited so the list will be a long read, actually several long reads, so might put off all but the most hardened readers. 

(And there are no interesting photos but there will be in the next post, promise.)

Please don’t worry if you are not that hardened, I will never know that you went off to take up knitting.

So, the shop was looking rather thin, tired and sad.

Upstairs, there were crates of unlooked-at old books because no one had checked their value and put them out or online, the shelves were stuffed but chaotic, there was stuff /rubbish everywhere – stashed down the side of lockers, on the high shelves, under  stacks of chairs, under sorting benches, on the high tops of shelves, down the sides of cupboards, and and …..

We had alway known that, but with the agreement of the amazing new area manager, more of her in later instalments, we could clear out – and I mean really clear out.

Meanwhile donations had been turned away because those that were there, were not being sorted and shelved – and you can’t do that because who knows what value that turned away donation would have had.

And the takings were down to about £700 to £850 with weeks when only £600-something was the order of the day.

Now, of course, there were the pandemic and lockdowns to consider – and with the new ‘freedoms’ (don’t get me started on the handling of all this) bookshop life is easier – but even so….

This is only the pre-amble so again, you might want to heave a sigh and turn away. But if you stick with me there is a the (temporary) happy ending.

The shop is now looking fat, sleek and refreshed and last week we took more than £1200.

I will come back to that fattening later, but for now, upstairs – the behind-the-scenes work.

The shop manager is a hoarder and while the cat is away us mice have been having a therapeutic clear out.

We found whilst clearing/cleaning out for example ( not an exhaustive list by any means) :

Four irons and two ironing boards – we are a bookshop. 

We do indeed sell clothes online but our amazing online-clothes person takes them home to wash and iron, and even if she didn’t, we wouldn’t need four irons and two ironing boards. Even clothes shops have steamers, not irons, so goodness knows how long they have been stuffed down the side of those lockers.

Size cubes dating from 2004 – we know that because 2004 was the year of the Boxing Day Tsunami and that was the year we turned into a bookshop. 

Size cubes in case you are wondering, are those little bits of plastic that are on coat hangers to tell you that something is size 10 (I wish I was looking at those), 12, 14, 16 or XL or whatever. They are now on their way to an Oxfam clothes shop.

Three till drawers for tills that no longer exist in Oxfam, they are in the re-cycling bin.

Left-over red nose stuff from 2017 – apparently you need to take those back to Sainsbury’s and are in my car boot ready to do just that.

A broken hoover – we have two working others.

It has gone to the local tip thanks to a volunteer 

And another volunteer is taking one of the ironing boards – the one with no cover and just, just in case we need an ironing board in a bookshop, we kept one.

She has also taken a box of old postcards to be valued by a local auction house.

That box was on a shelf she decided to have a look at. 

They had been there as long as she could remember. They had been ignored for say, oh I don’t know, several years. Certainly all the eight years I had been working there and thought it was a box of official Oxfam paperwork – after all it was on that shelf.

Two large and heavy boxes of foreign coins – we can send them to be re-used in some way but have yet to find out where and how – but I should point out, we are volunteers holding the fort and this is not top of our list. Anyone who has any ideas, please let me know.

Five boxes of mobile phones – now we know there was an Oxfam contract to re-cycle these and I learned that all the gold medals at this year’s Olympics we made from gold from old mobile phones.

And they had been sitting there for say, let’s say accumulating, for several years. 

At the moment, there is a hiatus I understand, between contracts, so they are sorted, boxed up, properly stored and ready to go when we know where they need to go.

There is a stack of chairs for shop meetings that never happen –  we don’t have shop meetings because they ‘are a waste of time’ so when on a whim, I decided to pull them out and hoover – we still have two – I discovered another box full of old postcards in amongst the deep, deep dust and rather surprisingly, another box of light bulbs – we have about 40 of them found in nooks and corners and now in one place.

They, the postcards not the light bulbs, will be part of a lovely display on the newly installed display table.

So, that is enough for now but stayed tuned for how we mice have in the words of our new area manager – and there will be more about her – have started ‘breathing and making the shop sing.’

Eating Out

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Whist we could not make it to Northern Majorca this month ( again – and yes I know this is a rich person’s whinge), we have made it lovely West Wales.

Well, it is lovely but it is also cold with a very brisk northerly ‘breeze’ as the weatherman called it, and not much in the way of sun.

Still and all, it is somewhere other than home, and it came with a promise.

I had promised myself and the Best Beloved had also promised, that we would eat out – no cooking for me and the chance to have our first meals out since before Christmas.

So, not being a great researcher, I had pottered around on the internet looking for good places to eat on the locality, and thought I would leave the fine tuning of my potential choices until we got to our rented cottage and read the inevitable visitors’ book – that which always tells you where to go and where to avoid.

Ah well, the visitors book was scrapped as a Covid measure.

And the wifi connection in this part of very rural West Wales is pretty rubbish. After half an hour of one/off connection, I discovered that St Davids is not a place of culinary excellence. 

There are a couple of highlights but the BB balked at the innovative Grub Kitchen where you eat the insects bred by the chef’s wife in her ‘grub’ farm – he was not further enamoured by the news you can also visit it and see what you are about to eat before it is mashed, fried, griddled etc. 

I would have gone for it as I remember fondly the salty crunchiness of deep fried crickets in Thailand many moons ago.

He said he would go with me but be very, very careful about what he chose off the menu. And would probably stick to a beer.

The one posh place in St David’s doesn’t allow dogs and the cottage owners don’t allow you to leave them alone in the place, so that was out.

Anyway, I had found Mrs Will The Fish which is apparently an unassuming bungalow in Solva where you can pre-order and collect a platter of locally caught fish and shellfish, so that is hopefully happening tomorrow.

But today we decided to have a late lunch in one of the local pubs which I gathered after half an hour of waiting for reviews to come up on my weary, wifi-deprived laptop, did good food and was popular.

We booked for 2pm, went in and were seated and they were happy to have the dog along, so all looked good.

I went for the mussels – but the mussels were off.

Then what I really wanted was one of those orders that Americans do.

‘Please can I have a small size greek salad, not a main size, alongside a starter possibly the duck or maybe the potted pork what do you recommend? Both at the same time you understand, and a small side order of chips?’

The BB said he was having a burger. I watched the service and the harassed and no doubt short-staffed comings and goings and decided I too would have a burger but without the bread.

Not too complicated/American a request but it threw the waitress – her revenge would come later.

Meanwhile and I have to say, it had been a long meanwhile so far, a couple sat down next to us.

They had walked 6 miles of the Coastal Path and were looking forward to a justified late lunch.

‘Food service has been suspended,’ they were told by the waitress.

‘Until when?’ they asked.

‘What time is it?’

‘2.30’

‘Oh, then we have stopped serving.’

They had to settle for crisps and peanuts and by that time, I was beginning to envy them. 

They finished their snacks, and a couple of lagers and set out to find a bus back before our waitress appeared again.

‘Sorry she said, you burgers got dropped so there will be a delay so they can cook them again.’

Yes it was the same waitress who was less than impressed by the idea of a burger without bread, ‘You mean all the stuff but not in a burger. No bun??’

I was, at that point very glad, I had not asked for anything more complicated.

Any by ‘got dropped’ she later admitted she had dropped them……

They were good homemade burgers, and indeed grit free, and the chips were excellent – mine arrived in a bun as it is clearly beyond comprehension that a burger doesn’t belong in a bun. And I get that up to a point – a scotch egg without the egg… but anyway.

And though the more than generous helpings it meant there was no need for supper, I was somewhat at a loss about what to do come early evening and got rather nostalgic about the night before when I had rustled up crushed Pembrokeshire new potatoes with mint butter, asparagus and some thick cut local ham with background Radio 4.

This eating out business might be a bit over-rated.

So, I think I am planning to save my BB’s promise tokens for eating out – much like the old green shield stamps – until I can book a place which will serve food I really enjoy and could/would never cook at home.

And, tomorrow there is Mrs Will The Fish eaten at ‘home.’ Fish fingers crossed.

Maxine Peake and Pies

/ aspinalllucy / Leave a comment

This, dear reader, is a rambling story which takes in a Mike Leigh film, pie-making, a waste of a day, a trip to a flea market, and it ends in disaster.

So if none of that takes your fancy, feel free to leave now.

So, one rainy day in the winter lockdown, we decided to watch Mike Leigh’s film, Peterloo. 

Maxine Peake was the indomitable mother figure and she made pies for a living.

Cut to the Kempton Antiques Market – really a large flea market.

I used to go there with a good friend and one day I bought an artisan wooden mallet type thing which I thought was probably used by a someone chipping marble or wood and which I thought would be useful to bash against my hammer to get out tacks when I was dismantling a chair ready for re-upholstering.

(Actually, it was rubbish at that, but I liked it anyway.)

Cut back to Peterloo and the family is sitting around talking politics or something because I have to say during that shot, I had stopped listening.

I saw my artisan piece of equipment behind Maxine Peake.

Putting two and two together, I realised my artisan equipment had something to do with pies and went on a search to find out what it was.

I even tracked down the name of the set director who is the imaginatively named Charlotte Dirickx. I thought I would contact her and find out about this obscure 19th century cooking implement.

I didn’t need to.

I was telling the story so far to a dog-walking friend when she said, ‘Oh it’s a pie dolly for making hot water crust pies.’

Indeed, it seemed, it was.

Now, I know that Mike Leigh has this thing about authenticity so I thought, well if Maxine Peake can make a pie with one, I can too.

Now, I like a pie and often make a pie with my grandmother-taught shortcrust pastry skills. Indeed we had a cheese, onion and dill one last night.

And here as they say are two I had made earlier though I have to say, I didn’t make my own puff pastry – life is indeed too short.

But I hadn’t done hot water crust for a while so it was a bit of a challenge during what was a driech and drear, lethargy-inducing lockdown day.

I am sure Maxine’s character didn’t make her pies with best butcher’s meat – and indeed a Manchester pie is basically potatoes and a bit of butter in a pie.

But I did. 

So I made the beef filling – as I said good quality beef, bay leaves, red wine, carrots, celery, nice stock – but not too much because it had to support the pastry. 

And I made the hot water pastry and moulded it around my pie dolly, filled the insides, put a lid on it and put it in the oven.

I can freely admit at this point that it was a faff and the pie dolly is not going to become a favourite kitchen implement.

And you can see why.

A good few hours of wasted effort on a failed experiment.

The Best Beloved said he was fine with eating a collapsed pie and the pastry was lovely, but the filling was a bit dry. I mean, really?