Paperwork

It's not easy running two businesses and a household.  When I wrote out my profile on the sidebar of this blog, it was prior to establishing the pie shop, but I'm truly - truly - living it out now.  We're always looking for ways to work smarter, not harder.  We even own a book with the same title! Everything, simply EVERYTHING can be improved upon, but this takes time.  For workable systems to be put into place it takes time, effort and a lot of mistakes have to be made in the process. 

Take the paperwork, for instance. 

In our home office, we have three paper trays, one for engineering, one for the cafe and one for the household accounts.  Many times, the paperwork overlaps.  The telephone account overlaps, because we have one for all three entities.  Same with the electricity and gas accounts.  Some expenses are shared by both businesses - like the petrol bills.  Some expenses are shared by the cafe and ourselves - like various food items. 

A and B, B and C, C and A. 

(Doe, ray me, tea with bread, bread and jam...tra la la...)

Every purchase, invoice, cheque payment, direct deposit etc has to be recorded in an electronic acccounting system.  Food and hospitality produces an enormous amount of paperwork.

Bank statements are the biggest headache.  We have several.  We collect them, you see....

3 x business statements, 1 x GST statement, 1 x private statement, 1 x mortgage statement, 1 x investment statement, 2 x superannuation statements (there's more, but I'm sure you don't want to hear about them...).

Reconciling them for quarterly tax reporting is always nightmar-ish.  Imagine having several shop dockets with various tax codes for various items and having to separate them to record them accurately....

I remember watching documentaries on "Starting a New Life", whereby families would change their lifestyles completely.  A few of them decided on hospitality; b & b, small hotels, restaurants, cafes.  All of them declared that the hardest part of their new life was staying on top of the paperwork. 

Hmmm.....

I get it.  I really do get it.

A Taste of Spring

I bought some petunias today.  Petunias and stocks - in pinks and whites - some frilly, some smooth petalled.  Oh, and a couple of silver leafed perennials to plant in between them, bringing out their beauty, while adding to their vanity.  There were red and green cabbage flowers, too, which I left behind and now regret.  I've always adored displays of fruits, vegetables, berries and twiggery which hold their own against the most brilliant of flowers.   These aren't for our garden, though - they are for the Grands, and for mam to divide and replant.  She's been wanting 'pots of colour' for their outside table since the weather warmed a little.
"When did you put those plants outside our door?" she asked "will we be going back to the plant shop? I'd love some primroses, too ..."
"Sure we can, ma... I just wanted you to have something beautiful to welcome spring"

Our garden at home has come alive and looks quite lush already .... with LOTS and LOTS of weeds.  There's weeds between the vegetable beds and the garden paths have the thickest, greenest patches of lawn.

Should we mow it or scrape it up?

On each bed sits bulbous black bags, strategically placed and filled with semi-decomposed leaves; - a gift of labour from Grandpa when the leaves were carpeting the front of the house in early winter. They look like huge cocoons, waiting to burst open and spew out their contents.  I'm hoping we can relieve them really soon. 

Then again - I'm hoping to attend to a lot of garden exploits.  Soon.

Ramblings

The Machinist insisted we had a day 'off' and in town today.  Who am I to argue with that? Firstly, though, we had to pack away the flour deliveries, as well as the fresh fruit and vegetables. It's a good job we're just 'down the road' from the Shop.  There's always a feeling of 'I need to do this or I need to do that'.  The Machinist says I should relax and rest on days that we are closed.  I can't see this happening, as I cannot rest unless my house is clean and orderly, the washing is done or doing and the pets are tended. 

The Grands are always willing to help with our workload.  Grandpa forages for firestarting branches on the hill behind their cottage, and stacks the wood when we deliver it to him.  Hard going for an 84 year old.  They made them tough in 1925.  Each afternoon, he pops in for coffee and a treat, then later returns to carry the outdoor tables and chairs inside.  Like I said, they made them tough...

Granny also pops in with him, as she polishes the cutlery and folds the napkins.  Some days (yay!), she takes a stroll down to our house and washes any dishes we may have as well as folds the washing.  They made them tough in 1928, too!

Tomorrow, Lordwilling, the girls and I are taking a trip to Sydney with our Cheffy Rob to attend the Food Service Australia Expo. 

Which means an early start...

Hope Rob is awake by then! 

(If you read this, Cheffy, note that I AM JUST KIDDING. We all know you are like the sparrow...)

Soup..Er ... Meat Kitchen

I didn't notice her straight away.  Then, the kitchen light, shining out into the darkness revealed her eyes.  She was so thin and tiny, almost skeletal.  She came towards me, limping...

It's our mission to fatten her up.  Her name is 'Rognons', 'cos her first meal was Steak and Kidney pie and she wolfed it down with great abandon.  She is a nocturnal tabby.  There is no sight of her during the day, and then, at night, with the clashing of pots and pans, and the ritual door-opening to let cool night air into the hot kitchen, she appears, waiting, wanting ... with faint meows...

Two nights ago, a pure black cat showed up, too.  Rognons, although much smaller, growled at the newcomer, as she lapped up her evening milk.  The larger black cat now waits until Rognons is finished before she approaches the bowls.  The Machinist informed me earlier this evening that yet another cat; - a black with white patches feline attempted to claim Rognons' position as the Head Daily Pie cat. He continued on that he showed the other cat some 'Oliver Number 7' boot (he'd never do it.  He just hates injustice).

I remember smiling with admiration at a local farmer - all of 84 years of age - who feeds the local ferral brigade.  The cats don't remain ferral and a nuisance for long, though.  They become tame.  He names them and they become his.  The dairy cows on his farm provide a bottomless dish full of lactose nourishment.

Perhaps we've started a trend akin to our local farmer.  Maybe the feline community do their rounds.  Meaty dinners, followed by warm milk in two of their favourite locations.  Maybe, then, Rognons will become ours.

Smile....

Working Together

We work together
We work as one
Though there may be times
When we don't 'get on'

We may not always
See 'eye to eye'
And sometimes we feel
Like saying 'good-bye'

When this happens
We shouldn't lose heart
For of 'something greater'
We are all a part

Each one of us
Has a role to play
In making this
A brighter day

We work together
For the good of all
It's in our hearts
Where we feel the call

Gods love lives within
Every heart that shares
and every soul
that really cares

So whenever you feel
like going away
Just listen to your heart
For it wants you to stay.

Janice Walkden

Strength in Weakness

It's constantly amazing to me, how we get through things in life. 

A week ago, things looked daunting.  The Machinist had to go for an operation, Granny had to go for an operation, there were the prospect of long weeks ahead, full of events for The Daily Pie. 

Who would roll pastry with me? Who would bake pies with me?  Who would marinate and braise and slow cook meat fillings with me?  How could I take care of these two loved ones at the same time?

The washing machine broke down, the water pump played up and the electricity at the Shop was constantly tripping...

There was a multitude of other things, too. 

And yet....

My family pulled together and we got through it all....

The annual Pumpkin Festival is on this weekend, and we are expecting thousands of visitors to our tiny village of around 250.  We will be baking meat pies, sweet pies, pumpkin pies and serving pumpkin soup.  Pumpkin fever rages high, and I am tempted to enter a pie in the Pumpkin Pie competition. 

If there's time for such frivolity!

Caring for the Sick and Injured

"Hey, Babe, do you know any other guy who'd weld and machine during the day, after an early morning stint rolling pastry and making pies, only to return later that evening and help clean down the kitchen?"

"No, Babe.  You're the man.  You're. The. Man".

I feel so badly for the Machinist.  Remember this story, where the Machinist was larking about with Number One Son and badly hurt the back of his leg / ankle?  It turns out that the Machinist has actually broken his Achilles tendon.  The ultra sound shows that it is only hanging on by a few 'threads', and very flimsy threads at that.  Furthermore, there is a blood clot in the Machinist's lower calf and he is insistant that he '...ain't going on Warfarin*tm.  Not that rat poison!...'

And I certainly can't blame him.

He's been helping us so much at the Cafe.  We get there early (..ahem...) We roll, form and fill the pies by hand, then the Machinist and I drive in convoy out on the highway, where we leave his utility with a massive Daily Pie Cafe sign on the back (we're not allowed to leave fixed signs on the highway).  Then the Machinist goes home, supposedly to get off his bad leg.  He doesn't, though.  Well, not all the time.  He's busy quoting on machining jobs, making calls, costing etc.  He makes things for the Cafe and fixes things and does repairs and maintenance on the house, Workshop and grounds.

Last week, I took mam for cataract surgery.  The next day, she had a follow up appointment with the surgeon.  In the same week, I went with the Machinist to the hospital where we waited over 8 hours to see a doctor.  Good has come of it, though, and to cut a long story short, his tendon surgery is scheduled for next Wednesday.  Mam also has follow up consultations next week, but one of the girls will take her into town. After placing food orders, I'd like to focus on helping the Machinist get well again.  

We've got public holidays and a festival coming up in the next couple of weeks. Big days for the Cafe and staff (us).  One day at a time, though.

By the grace of God go I...

I'm A Cafe Owner

Well.....

Weeks of blur have passed.  We're seeing through the fog and REALLY getting organised.  Owning a cafe is nothing like you imagine before you open.  Each day is tiring, because you're not only preparing, cooking and baking food, but you have to put your 'business brain' on, and think of the patrons.  What they would like to eat, what they would like to see, how they would like to feel in YOUR establishment.  Because really, without customers, the business wouldn't be.  It is truly a service, and one that demands a theatre in it's own right.  It doesn't matter what is going on behind the scenes; - as long as the whole, complete experience is 'just right', there lies the reality of it all. 

There have been a few evenings, when the Machinist and I, when all is quiet and clean and scrubbed and packed and swept and mopped, - sit and reflect on all that has transpired.  We tell each other "...we're cafe owners...did you ever THINK this would be?"

And yes, - it's true. 

We pinch ourselves....

We are truly grateful and excited and challenged yet rearing to continue and develop and grow.  The whole experience is so emotionally packed, that you feel like one of the stars on awards night....

"I'd like to thank so-and-so and so-and-so" and "...we're amazed..." and "...it's been an awesome journey..."

Etc. etc.

The Machinist and I are the pie-makers and bakers.  We mix and roll and fill pie pallets and cover them with rough puff pastry.  Our black aprons are lightly dusted with plain and baker's flour.  We do a happy dance when we see the pie tops rise like souffle's through the window of the trusty old pie oven. We also do a lot of high fives, but the tone of the kitchen can change in a minute, resembling a kitchen akin to Ramsey's, if things go wrong. 

Sometimes, the girls pop their heads in and ask "...can you keep it down in here.  We have customers..."

Customers! 

We. Have. Customers.

This weekend is the 'Easter' weekend and we are expecting a lot of passing motorists.  Fish pie is on the menu: a seafood marinara filling boasting a piped mash 'hat', which we will serve with mesclun salad and a wedge from a BIG FAT LEMON.  I will also make some fruit flans and apple pies - nice and plump and runny.

Mmmm....

Right now, though, there is a multitude of ordering to be done, and if I don't fall asleep at the computer, bobbing forward and cracking my head on the screen, I hope to do some paperwork, too.

Oops!  There goes my floppy head!

Welcome to My Manufactory!

I've missed blogging.

Then again - I've missed a lot of things. 

No matter.  This is a new chapter for all of us.  I have to smile at the sheer variety and fullness life has to offer.  On any particular day I could be doing the washing, making business calls, typing out quotes for the Machinist, grocery shopping with the Grands, cleaning commercial equipment, MAKING AND BAKING PIES, working at the local winery, ordering or picking up food for the cafe, mindlessly checking Facebook, holding metal sheets in place with the Machinist, sweeping and mopping the shop's kitchen floor, having a photo shoot at the Shop, dropping off marketing cards...The list goes on.

All of our children are hands on deck today.  The Machinist and Son are doing the final touches to the cafe tables, as well as 'knocking up' some more pie tins and customising the baker's rack.  The girls will be up at the cafe, unwrapping packets and boxes of coffee, sugar and tea, as well as arranging 'their' counter space.  They'll also be doing the last of the painting; the toilets.  We are using a deep purple colour called "Double Bass" by Dulux (same as the rear wall behind the counter). 

We're all full of aches and pains.  This is back-breaking work!  The Machinist's leg / ankle is still troubling him.  I suspect he has broken a bone, but I'm no doctor.  I've booked him in to see our doctor AFTER the opening.  Emma has fallen arches, so she is hobbling around, too - also putting her treatment off for 'later'.  I think for all of us, though, the sheer strain of constantly lifting, carrying and moving is taking it's toll.  Not to mention the long hours and late nights. Won't it be lovely when we're open and life is routine?  Maybe a lot of work still, but nevertheless - routine.

I hope to update the pie blog soon, with pictures of pies, the kitchen and cafe, along with media releases.  I'm hoping that on Tuesday of next week, we can mainly clean and titifilate the place up.  Now that will be exciting... 

We've Set a Date!

The pie shop is coming along nicely.  It has been a long, hard haul, but now we have an opening date: Thursday, the 25th March 2010.  It's rather scary and exciting naming a day and date, which is a HUGE committment.

Getting the equipment into the kitchen was the easy part.  What I find so tiring is carting various items from our home kitchen to the shop kitchen and organising them.  I don't think you truly know how you want your working space until you're actually using it on a regular basis.  We've been making a supply of pastry, - puff and shortcrust for the pies and storing them in the freezer.  It's a good thing to have backup products.  Tomorrow, there'll be more mixes and test pies in the making...

This evening, the Machinist called me "...come and help me with Bob, Babe.  He's cut his foot really bad and the blood is dripping all over the place.."  Our 'Miracle Dog' decided to jump over the deck fencing for his toilet duties.  He can get over, but he can't get back upon the deck.  He has been chewing the deck post, which holds the gate brackets (that the Machinist made to keep the dogs out of the big yard).  In a desperate effort to get back with his pack, he has jumped, caught his back paw and cut it wide open.  We've bandaged him up the best we can.  For tonight.  Tomorrow, we'll have to take a closer look and assess what needs to be done.  It's the last thing we needed to happen...

We are all so weary and I wanted this to be an exciting post, but it's 11.45pm and I'm really tired. 

More later....after all - as my mam says "...tomorrow is another day..."

The Ram Whisperer

"I'm just going up to Nicole's place.  She's seen a snake just outside of her shanty and wants me to get rid of it" declared the Machinist. 

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"It's alright, I won't be long" (what help would I be anyway, other than the vocals?)

"I don't mind.  I'll keep watch for you ..."

Nicole was standing in the doorway of her settler's hut, not wanting to venture onto the front verandah, nevermind the grass, which would lead to the main family home.  And safety.  The Machinist climbed out of the ute and grabbed the long handled spade which was on the back tray and proceeded to the front gate.  Suddenly, he halted in his tracks. 

"Will this ram go for me, Nicole?"

"It shouldn't.  If it does, just grab it's horns"

"I'm not going anywhere near him.  If he comes for me, I'm off"

With this, the Machinist darted behind a couple of broken down cars and stood cautiously, waiting for the ram to disappear.  The ram decided he wasn't going anywhere.  I called to the ram ...

"Come here, boy.  Come on, then.  There's a good boy..."

I stood stroking the rams nose and talking gently and calmly to him. "You're a good boy, aren't you?  There's a good boy..."

The Machinist ran to the gate, lifted the bent wire over the post and pushed it open.  The snake was nowhere to be found.

"Sorry to have to call you.  I'm terrified of snakes.  I'm really paranoid"

"So am I, Nicole...." 

The ram was moving around me, pushing his hot woolly body against me, "It's allright, laddie".  I continued stroking his nose, while heavy breathing, occasional snorting and exhaling noises came from his nostrils.  Thoughts of my own pet rams back in South Africa came to mind.  I would talk to them in the same manner and they would follow me, wherever I roamed.  I would hide from them, and they would bleat until they could sight me.

"C'mon, Babe.  That snake could be anywhere.  Let's go"

I was keeping the ram entertained, while the Machinist made his getaway to the safety of the ute.  I stopped stroking the ram's nose and as I suspected, he decided he wanted me to continue and nudged me (gently rammed me?) each time I stopped. 

The Machinist started the engine.  I took a sprint to the ute.  The ram chased me.  The Machinist held the passenger side door open to let me in.  The ram tried to get in, too. 

He didn't make it.