H&C

5
Feb
2010

1 Comments

The thaw and a trip to Brighton

Starting work: Gary long reins Dreamer

"What's happened since Christmas? Well this year, a lot. Things seem to be picking up, we have at last found some staff, and with one their CV actually matched their experience, so that's a step in the right direction.

The snow has at last gone, I never thought I would be happy to see rain, but as long as it washed away the crusty white stuff I could not be happier. I know everybody says it's a one off and the result of global warming, but we simply can't do it here. Living out in the sticks, with a lot of outdoor piping and one 4x4 to share between 1600 villagers, is not my idea of fun.

Even the people who swear and curse on the road because I take up too much room with my carriages, or go too slowly in my lorry, were glad to see "dear old gary and the pick up truck" - it's amazing how people fly into panic when they are down to their last pheasant or bottle of port!

The pensioner and I decided to go to Brighton. The snow was more or less clear, and the pick up truck has more gears and ratios than you can shake a stick at, so we thought we would go for a little jaunt, and what did said pensioner want to see? Yes thats right, Holiday on Ice. So from -5 degrees outside to -7 inside we went.

The Brighton Centre lacks charm and character but it is a huge space, that can be moulded to any use. We sat patiently in our seats (not allowed to take hot drinks or food into the auditorum - what do they think we were going to do? Donut somebody to death, or throw an expensive luke warm cup of tea at them?). This second day of the run proved disasterous, the many coach loads of challenged folk and the elderly could not make it, so the 2000 seater auditorum only had 17 of us turn up!

I politely asked the seating steward if myself and the pensioner could move around the front, to one of the 1800 empty seats in the best block. "Sadly not," said the quiff of blue rinsed hair, "they might yet turn up and those seats are much more expensive." With that the overture started (piped music - gone are the days of a decent orchestra) and onto the ice came amateur night. Not a member of the cast seemed to be older than 16, and they seemed to have a private joke running among themselves, and us the audience, all 17 of us, were just a hinderance. Where was the sequinned costumes and osterich feathers, where was Anita Harris, a pencilled in mole, a spot light and a chorus line? Nowhere to be seen. It was modern cheap and quick. Lesson learnt, complaint made and two free tickets for Motorhead (I don't think so).

Back to the yard, dodging the showers, things are coming back into work slowly, new staff have to learn new working practices, cope with my pathological tidy gene, have a sense of humour the size of a house, and be able to understand what I say before I say it. With some good young horses, one or two reinventions, a ghastly diet and four weeks on the wagon now, I wish myself and my staff every luck in the world. Till next time...."