Déjà vu

The same jobs every year – the routine of opening Powdermills Bed & Breakfast has started.  Season 7 is less prolific than Friends, but we’ve lasted longer than Fawlty Towers.  The process doesn’t feel tedious but rather cathartic, like I’m emerging from hibernation—five months of sleeping and recuperating.  I wish.  When my dad retired, he used to say he felt busier than when he was working, but he was a joker.

            We’ve been blessed with a sumptuous weather forecast for over a week.  The gardens are starting to bloom, the Snowdrops have returned to the earth, the distinct yellow of the Primrose has gone, and the Daffodils are past their best, but the Bluebells, which will soon carpet the hillside, are stirring.  The warmer weather has brought sweet aromas to Powdermills, the chorus of birdsong, and the occasional buzzing of the bees.  The grass threatens to grow, which gives me the excuse to jump on the tractor, plug into a podcast or audible, and shave the grass for two hours.  I’ll be bronzed by the beginning of May at this rate. 

We lost seven large trees in the January storms, but at least the wood they generated provided logs for fires and stoves for our neighbours in Furnace.  It was a positive to come from a negative.  ‘Every cloud has a silver lining’, as the saying goes.  The other upside of losing the trees is how it has opened light to the front garden and at the side of the house.  This neatness and newness have helped enthuse me for the coming hard work.  We’ve had a trickling of guests, but it’s allowed me to hone my breakfast cooking skills again.  It’s been like my memory of rugby pre-season training – everything a bit too laboured than it should be.

During the off-season, Sue and I painted the Campbell Room and ensuite.  We try to freshen up inside every year.  It makes me laugh when I think back to when I would call a painter and decorator to complete these jobs.  Sue’s excellent, a steady hand, and I’m the apprentice doing all the non-skilled ‘grunt’ work.  I like it that way, being told what to touch and what not to do.  Sue missed her calling; she should have worked in quality assurance. She allows me freehand outside, so the memorial benches, raised bed, and chairs have been given their annual rebirth.  I enjoy the physical work in the garden, although my back and muscles beg to differ.

The car park has also been painted, with a bed of bright yellow stones fencing off each parking space. New signage on the garage points to where the car park is—many guests don’t see it, so this should stop cars from parking on the lawn. However, this year’s revelation is solar light floodlights at the entrance for late arrivals and on the green in front of the entrance.  To think I was contemplating investing £3,000 on getting electrical power down to the gate to install a light.  Technology nowadays – and we can do with every bit of help with the exorbitant electricity costs that continue to rise. 

I still have a few jobs to complete, including power washing the entrances and patio. It brings out the child in me, and a roll of the eyes from Sue, as I play with the jet gun like an extra in Star Wars. I’m usually covered in dirt and grime by the end of the work. I love it, especially the clean slate and stone.  I must complete this task before we embark on our latest do-it-ourselves project – cementing and grouting the patio.  This is out of our comfort zone, but with research of videos on the web, we’re optimistic we can do it.  I’ll keep you posted.

Finally, happy spring greetings to all those guests coming this year; we’re looking forward to your stay.

#Argyll #Summer holidays #Bed and Breakfast