You know it’s going to be one of those days when you’ve had
a marriage proposal before 9am. I didn’t even have to make him any porridge (or
rice pudding), which Rachel informed me is the usual prerequisite. What can I say.
It must be my natural charm and beauty which prompted him to ask, “Are you
married? No? Would you like to be?” Who said romance was dead. (Don’t worry,
dad. I politely declined). Things quickly escalated in the minds of my
colleagues, though. Fiona said that I must already be pregnant by now, and when
discussing baby names Mick suggested a mix between something modern and an
ancient philosopher. For some reason though, carrying a fictitious child called
Harry-Stotle did not get me out of cleaning the hostel.
My attempts to avoid Tom were thwarted a few days ago. As I
ran past the Woolpack one afternoon, he was outside on the tractor – perfectly positioned
to hurl abuse at me as I went down the road. I’m fairly certain he also tried
to set the turkey on me. I went round the following day with some Grasmere
Gingerbread as a peace offering (which I’m fairly sure would solve many world
conflicts). Tom admitted that Arsenal were lucky, and that they were not at all
the superior team despite their league position. I may have been daydreaming at
this point….I zoned out when he said that he had thought about buying me a
Newcastle shirt with 5-1 on the back which he was going to nail to my door. At
least I got a warm welcome from Harry and Wooly.
We had a visit from the Environment Agency yesterday – they have
a rain gauge station set up at the hostel, and they come round every now and
then to collect the data. What we weren’t expecting though was for the chap to
start hoeing the surrounding soil. A colleague of mine (who shall remain
nameless), informed me that there had been a spate of hoeing recently. She then
went on to ask me, “Shall I tell you how I made the delivery man come?”
Apparently, that wasn’t exactly what she had meant to say. But in case you’re
wondering, if you’re waiting for a delivery order to arrive – eating tomato
soup is the key (but don’t forget to soak the bowl afterwards).
Rachel made a grand discovery the other evening – “Look, K,
you can buy 100 pairs of cotton knickers from Amazon. I would never need to go
shopping again.” It concerns me slightly that I’m often the voice of reason at
YHA Eskdale. Like the time I had to suggest to Rachel that it might not be such
a good idea to put lit candles on a guest’s bed to help celebrate his birthday.
It was a lovely thought, though. Fiona , on the other hand, has violently
accused me of turning into her mother. I only told her that something can’t be
very unique.
(Thanks for reading – hope you’re having a lovely day)
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