Can you just loosen this?


You couldn’t make this stuff up!

We’ve had a couple fo really nice ladies staying with us while they attended a family wedding. This morning was their last morning.

As they came into the dining room I noticed that one of them was carrying a flask. She asked Boofuls if he would open it for her as she was unable to remove the lid. Being the gentleman that he is he duly obliged.

Just as he gave the lid an almighty turn one of the ladies said, “Be careful, it’s had a fruit smoothie in, it might explo……….

As the words left her mouth, the three-day old fruit smoothie  exploded. Clearly having been fermenting in the warm room it left the flask with the force of a rocket. The chairs, tables, floor, crockery and people were all covered in purple smelly slime.  Everyone jumped back in surprise as the lid went flying across the dining room to land three tables away.

The ladies were mortified. Being of that age where they have to step in to clean up rather than watch another person do it, they immediately started trying to clean it up – with my cream damask napkins. Oh no! L et’s make a bad situation worse and destroy some expensive napkins, I don’t think so!

I quickly jumped in and removed them from her hand. “Leave it to me, ladies, it won’t take a moment to clean up”. Still they hovered and faffed trying their best to be helpful but actually just getting in the way. “Sit down, girls, we’ll get you some tea.” They continued to stand there flapping their hands and trying to grab napkins to mop up the mess. By now my smile was starting to slip. “SIT down! I ordered in what I hoped was a jollying along kind of voice and not a ‘I’m going to lose my temper in a minute’ kind of voice.

Finally they did sit and the clean up operation took a couple of minutes. The trouble with the carpet in the dining room is that it is a typical English hotel carpet, very busy and colourful and about thirty years old ( I only mention that fact to remind Boofuls that it’s days are very much numbered). If anyone drops anything not this carpet they have to get down to ground level, ear to the ground like a red Indian scout listening for rattlesnakes, and scan the floor. That’s because it’s height will give it away, trying to find anything on it from a standing position is almost impossible, I once lost Douggie the doggie on it.

The reason I mention the carpet is because I’m hoping that we did actually manage to clean up all the slime. If not then I can pretty much guarantee some guest will come walking in with bare feet and walk straight in it. Ugh, doesn’t bear thinking about. Look out for THAT review!

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Doorstop bereavin’


It’s no secret that we love living in south Devon. Now its autumn and we have a bit more time on our hands we’ve been getting out a bit more.  One thing I’ve noticed on our travels is that so many of the business names are so similar.

Salt Rock, Rock Salt, Rock Fish, Salt Water, Wierd Fish, On the Rocks, all names that have been carefully picked to conjure up images of the coast, the seaside, fresh fish, fantastic food, holidays, sailing and generally how good life is on the coast.

Trouble is they are all so similar that they all run together in my mind.

Can I recommend a good restaurant? Yeah. Try Rock Water er….I mean Salty Fish Water.  Eh? Oh no.  I mean Weird Cod Rocks. Or do I mean Rock Fish Balls or maybe Water Salt?

Come on guys. Come up with something a bit more memorable!

*****

Did I mention that Lashes and I have joined a choir? No? Wow! You must be the only people in the world who don’t know.

We are LOVING it.

One of the songs we are learning at the moment is ‘Don’t Stop Believin’.  Every week about fifty of us traipse up to the local village hall to warble away like little (and not so little ) rocking songbirds.

One of the choir members is a really lovely Chines lady who just beams all the way through the evening. She’s a delight to be around. Or so I thought. She sits in the alto section where Lashes sits. I sit in the soprano section so I’m never really near her when she’s singing.

Last week as we left the choir lashes glowered at me and announced that she wouldn’t be sitting near the Chinese woman again.

“She puts me right off.”
“Why’s that then? I thought she was lovely.”
“She is but her accent is so strong and her voice so loud I can’t tune her out.”

It turns out that this lovely lady booms out her own version of the lyrics:

‘Doorstop bereavin…hode on to a fee-ee-eeri-i-i-n’
street rife peepoh…ohhhhh-ohhh-OOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!…

Strangers waitin’ up a’ dow’ a’ bourevar..shadows searching i’ a’ niiiiiiigh’

Bless her, I liked her even more when I discovered this.  I’m not going to be sitting near her anytine soon though.

Just as a Saturday treat, here is the original  version:

My brain hurts


Oh my Gawd!!!

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this, slightly queasy, slightly dizzy, slightly blurry vision, extremely windy and with a little man inside my head using a pneumatic drill.

I feel terrible. Do you feel sorry for me?

No? Oh. I see you’ve put together my symptoms and come up with a diagnosis of ‘major hangover’.

You’re not wrong. Yes, it’s self inflicted.

Now anyone who knows me well knows that even though I come across as a party girl I am in fact a very light drinker. Our next door neighbour, also a hotelier, caught me putting water into my wine once and was disgusted with me. Now I get teased about it all the time when we have a hotel ladies get together. The hoteliers social life is about to take off as it is, in case you haven’t noticed, October. A week or so to gather up a bit of energy and then the party season will start right up until March. We were begging for a break from it all last year. “Noooooo….not another bloody party, I caaaaaaaaaaan’t. It’s more knackering than working!”

Actually, now I come to think of it, it’s already started. That’s how I came to be out last night.

A really lovely hotel manager and her oppo and I hit it off as soon as we met. Always doing other things we kept saying, we must meet up for a drink sometime. Anyway, ‘some time’ was yesterday. “Come out for gin cocktails and a curry. Bring Boofuls”, came the missive.

It would have been rude not to.

Have you noticed how gin has become a fashionable drink recently?

Served in a goldfish bowl sized glass with half a rain forests worth of greenery in the form of herbs or other ‘botanicals’ in it. Mine was served with star anise and rose petals. Very pretty, very nice. I only had one to their two.

We chatted, caught up with the gossip, debated where to eat and generally chilled out, we were having a lovely time. Until the only other person in the bar came up to our table. A woman, probably in her thirties and very, very drunk came up and put her arms round one of our friends. “You’re so beautiful. Can I come and join you?” She staggered around a bit and we all looked in horror at each other. The silence was deafening.

Eventually, Boofuls piped up with, “Well, not really, we are going out to eat in minute.” “Thash ok *hic* I’sh come wiv ya.”

Once again we all stared at each other and then at the table top. Not wanting to be rude but absolutely not wanting the extra company. The table top became utterly fascinating as we all stared at it. Eventually, she got the idea that she wasn’t joining us and staggered off, straight to the bar where she picked up a glass of wine from someone’s order and started drinking it. At that point she got thrown out. WE heaved a sigh of relief. I bet she has a humdinger of a hangover today.

Anyway, we toddled off, after much debate, to a local Indian restaurant. Boofuls hates Indian food but he was out voted on the basis that they serve English food as well, as long as he wanted an omelette.

It’s ages since I’ve been for an Indian, it was delicious. The waiter brought our wine. After one mouthful each we realised he had brought chardonnay rather than the sauvignon we’d ordered so he rectified his mistake while saying, “just finish the other bottle off.” So we did. Oh God.

MY little head was starting to feel a bit swimmy when we left the restaurant. All in all it was a brilliant night out.

Shame that Douggie the Doggie decided to alert us that he was going to have a seizure at 2.30 this morning. Take it from me, nothing will sober you up faster than that. I leapt out of bed, got him downstairs and dosed him up with his tablets. It always scares me giving him an extra dose but if I can catch a fit early enough I can stop it in it’s tracks. As it did last night. The only trouble then is that he goes into such a deep sleep that I spend all night feeling his chest to make sure he’s still breathing. So, Douggie’s world record of over three months without a fit still stands.

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating going back to bed and watching my snoozing dog. The world is making waking up noises and my brain isn’t giving me ‘it’s morning, get moving’ signals. Actually, my bed is looking more attractive by the minute. No work for me today so… beddy byes it is for another hour. G’night all, I have to go and sleep off my excesses – so I can do it again tonight!

I love October, I may have to go back to watering down my wine if I’m going to survive, though.

Sssshhhhhh…listen…I think they’ve all gone


After a mad flurry last weekend, the house is now empty of paying guests and peace has been restored.

I do have to question whether we are in the right job as we are always so thrilled when we have no one in but then I remind myself that we’ve had exactly three days off since March and I’m feeling a bit entitled to some r&r.

Our last guests were a mixture of UKIP disciples, some repeat guests who have become friends, leading to some ridiculous, alchohol fuelled and very funny conversations in the bar of an evening, and a couple who flew in from Dubai for a funeral, flying out again after only three days. Poor buggers.

At this point I hasten to state that the UKIP-ers politics are not my own and I actively tried to avoid conversations with them. It only took a moment of conversation for the opinions they harbour about all sorts of things to surface and I find most of it deeply offensive. They were hilarious at breakfast though.

One of the ladies ordered a full English breakfast and then asked for mustard with it. It’s quite unusual for anyone to order mustard anyway but the instructions that came with the request made me laugh. “It must be ENGLISH mustard, I don’t want any other kind, it has to be ENGLISH.” I was tempted to go out and say to her, enjoy your English mustard along with your German sausage, your Danish bacon and Spanish tomatoes but I didn’t. Mostly because a paying guest still deserves to be treated politely and actually, all our food is locally sourced. The thought of it made me chuckle enough to put it on the hoteliers forum on Facebook though. Bugger me, three other hoteliers had had exactly the same conversations in their dining rooms! Patriotism a step too far methinks.

So. Now we have an empty house, what to do with our free time?

We could…or…maybe we could…or…just sleep. Blessed sleep.

Yes please! Let’s do that. See you soon, folks, I’m off for the first of many little naps.

Tie dye, bleach and general clothing customisation


Oooooh, what’s this? A new line of business?

I suppose you could be forgiven for thinking that I’d gone into the hippy clothing business since Torbay is so close to Totnes, that Mecca for hippies, artists and musicians but no.

What I’m talking about is an entirely different way of customising clothes. I’m talking about the ‘cleaning a bathroom and accidentally getting bleach everywhere’ approach to dying clothes. It’s reaching ridiculous proportions.

Yesterday I had to go out and buy myself half a dozen new tee shirts and work trousers as I’m starting to look a bit bleached out, and not in a good way. This week alone two tee shirts and a pair of pants have bitten the dust. By pants I mean trousers, not knickers, even I haven’t managed to bleach my knickers yet. Although I did manage to bleach my eyeball this morning. All I can say about that is, BLOODY OW!!! Anyway, I digress.

To be fair I quite enjoyed my little foray into town for some new clothes. It offset the trauma of going to the dentist and having my gums jet washed. Again – BLOODY OW!

Now that most of the tourists have gone home it’s quite nice in town. The beggars have buggered off since they know they aren’t getting anything from the locals who all know that these ‘homeless’ folk climb into a nice car and drive to their homes after a hard days begging. I kid you not. Not only that but the jay walkers who don’t seem to realise they are supposed to stay on the pavements and the foreign drivers who drive round with a look of pure terror on their faces, usually on the right side of the road but not always, have also gone. During the height of the season it’s like a three ring circus on the main road in town I flatly refuse to drive in that part of town during July and August. Anyway, I digress again.

After two and a half years of running a lodging emporium you’d think I’d be quite adept at cleaning the bathrooms without spraying bleach everywhere but no, no matter how careful I am I still manage to get it everywhere. In an attempt to try and look at least a little professional in case any stray guests happen to still be around I popped on a nice new pair of trousers and a new tee shirt before starting to service the rooms this morning and within half an hour I’d sprayed them both with bleach- along with my aforementioned eyeball.

With the benefit of hind sight, my brilliant idea of putting the bleach into a spray bottle was not such a brilliant idea after all. It wasn’t so much a spray as a powerful jet that ricocheted off the tiles and all over me. Sigh.

Maybe I should just embrace the concept of bleach speckled clothing and call it a fashion statement.

That’s a bit ironic


Driving through Paignton today it was stuck by the irony of them having a great big ugly, box like building that is the Vue cinema situated in such a place as to completely block the view of the beautiful shoreline. It should be called ‘Not such a great view’.

So, the summer season is gently slowing down. The leaves are turning all sorts of gorgeous colours, most of the tourists have gone home and it all feels very different. More relaxed. It’s as if the town has taken a deep breath and has finally got time to enjoy what is left of the summer.

Hundreds of people have passed through the doors of our lodging emporium, some have been lovely, some not too lovely but after a week or two their names and faces all seem to blur into one anyway and all we are left with is a fuzzy memory of a busy season.

We even had a day off last week. That’s almost like normal people. Boofuls worked out that the last time we had a full day off was way back in March. Time off is over rated anyway.

Lashes and I have decided to join a choir so we can warble our way through the winter. Funny thing, that. Never in the pats have we been tempted to join choir but suddenly everyone seems to be joining choirs.

I tried one out in Newton Abbot which was a bit gospelesque. It was ok but it’s fair to say it didn’t make my soul soar. Then a friend invited me to go to the Gilbert and Sullivan Society. That was a challenge. So many words, so much music and so fast! I loved that one. The only thing that put me off was they way all their faces lit up when I was introduced, they kept referring to me as a youngster and saying things like, “We need young people like you to join.” Ummmmm……I’m pushing 60, youngster I am not.

The following week Lashes and I went along to other choir and at the risk of sounding like Goldilocks, we found it to be just right. Not too highbrow nor too simple. It suits us perfectly. Membership forms have been completed and we are off to our second rehearsal any day now. Exciting!

Now that the summer season is over I might even have a few moments to write down some of our stories from the summer.

Wow!

All this free time is looming over me – I’m not sure what to do with it all. Watch this space and I’ll tell you as events unfold.

and a partridge in a pear tree


It’s fair to say that summer is in full swing at Boofuls Towers Bed and Breakfast Emporium.

We’ve had hoards of Norwegians eating me out of fruit, eggs, salmon and kippers. Not a single full English did I cook that week.

Then we got the Germans, more fruit, more eggs, more salmon and lots of pancakes.

Then we got the English golf chaps. Full English after full English went out of the kitchen. Not a morsel of fruit was eaten.

Saturday we had eleven vegetarians, two gluten free, one diabetic and one dairy free, and a partridge in a pear tree.

It’s a good job I now know how to judge my guests taste in food. It’s not too often I get caught out these days.The eleven veggies were a bit of a surprise though.

Later in the day we had nine room changes to do. NINE!!!!! We were half dead when we’ve finished. Our cunning plan to employ lots of staff and have them all work that day fell apart like a house of cards. Firstly, Molly Daydream daydreamed her way through the day. Peggy Kickass chose to not follow instructions i.e. work with Molly Daydream and make all the beds. Instead she took herself off to work on her own in room 16 leaving Molly to do what she does best, daydream. The end result of that is that I’d cleaned five bathrooms in the time it took those two to make one bed. Sally Swot, being a brand new member of staff can be forgiven for spending the day looking like a rabbit in the headlights as she tried her best to be helpful but actually ended up in the way as no one had the time to train her. Lashes, House Elf No.1 and me all ran around like idiots trying to get it all done before the new guests arrived. Added to that – we completely ran out of linen as the laundry failed to deliver – again. All in all it was a bit of a train wreck but we got through it eventually – and without anyone ending up in tears.

Tell me again why I wanted a B & B?

Last night a lovely Spanish couple turned up and immediately demanded to be taken to A & E. They didn’t even check in or get their luggage to their room. Working on the basis that we didn’t want any dead guests in the house, Boofuls took them to hospital to get the lady checked over and get the tablets she needed. Phew! Another disaster averted.

Then a three night, three room booking remembered a wedding they needed to attend and left two days early. That cost them dearly but they didn’t bat an eyelid. I think the dad just wanted to put a stop to the earache he was undoubtedly getting from his daughters about not having enough time to get ready for the wedding, they needed at least two days! God. I’m lucky if I get two minutes to get ready to go anywhere!

Over the last couple of weeks a scrote has been burgling hotels in our area. He tried to jemmy our door open, actually got into next door, robbed a neighbour, attempted to rob at least five other B&B’s and eventually got arrested. Luckily, we had some great cctv footage of him which the police found very useful. All the hoteliers worked with each other and with the police to protect each other and get him caught. I do believe he’s now residing in a prison somewhere at Her Majesty’s pleasure.

Oddly enough. The biggest security threat is guests. They will let strangers in thinking that they are another guest, even though we dedicate a full page in the room directory specifically saying not to. They unlock the front door and leave it on the latch or even leave it wide open. I should go round to their house and leave it wide open for anyone to walk into and see how they like it.

Anyway, that’s the latest round up. I’m off to bed now for an early night. I was so tired this morning that I was a danger to myself and everyone else. Lashes pushed some food into my hands and threw me out of my own kitchen. As I protested, saying that I was fine and could finish off, I spilt a panful of oil onto the floor. At that point I gave in and left.

G’night all, see you in October!

Why On-Leash Greetings with other dogs can be one of the single biggest mistake you make with your dog.


Absolutely agree with every word of this. Spread the word far and wide, folks. Then I might not get filthy looks rorm other dog owners when I tell them I don’t allow my dog to socialise when she’s on a lead.

David Tirpak

On leash greetings with people and dogs are the number one cause of behavioral issues on the walk.  They cause reactivity, condition excitement, and put dogs in immensely uncomfortable situations.  Lets break this down..

First and foremost the number one reason why we discourage on-leash greetings is due to the unnecessary social pressure that it creates for the dog.  In ideal social situations between dogs and dogs or dogs and people the dog is free to roam.  If they get stressed out due to another dog or person they can get up and walk away giving them space and reducing the social pressure.

Being on a leash is very restricting to most dogs.  They are stuck within a 4-6 foot radius of you at all times and are very aware of it.  This puts them in an innate position to tap into their fight or flight responses.  Since they do…

View original post 352 more words

A few photos of frolicking


When we first moved to Devon we were told that the novelty of living by the sea would wear off after a few months. I think someone forgot to tell Douggie the doggie. Two years on and he loves it as much as ever. In fact, if he doesn’t get a swim every day he positively sulks.

I’ve thrown in a couple of pictures taken with my fancy new filter as well. It’s amazing how a camera on a tripod acts like a magnet to snotty nosed little kids on the beach. 500 yards of beach to play on and yet they come and stand two inches away from me and seem determined to either stand right in the shot or stand next to the tripod, lose their balance and almost knock it over. Note to self: don’t take photos on the beach during school holidays.

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Ibble Ibble omnom


What?
Ibble ibble omnom
Sorry, what?
ibble ibble omnom
Ok. I give in, I still didn’t get it?
I’M HAVING A NIBBLE ON ONE!!
One what?
Mushroom
Eh?
The left over mushrooms, I’m having a nibble on one.
Flippin’ ‘eck! All I heard was Ibble ibble omnom. It wasn’t worth all the effort!

And so went the kitchen conversation this morning while we patiently waited for the last two guests to turn up for breakfast.

Art the moment we have a house full of mostly elderly people, it’s a bit like God’s waiting room. The all queue up outside the dining room door to be sure of getting the table closest to the buffet when breakfast starts at 8.15.

The only young couple we have in come down for breakfast just as it’s ending at 9.15 which means we stand around for half an hour not able to put anything away or clean up until they’ve been. The boredom leads to some ridiculous conversations, as you’ve just found out.

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