Thursday, 23 July 2015

Trimming a bush

Couple of bits of news before the normal chit chat begins! We’re trying to be more proactive with our Facebook page ( so we’d love it if you check in … latest beach news and surf reports etc. I’m not a selfie social media kind of guy, but it seems to be a good way of spreading the word. That’s what I’m told. Apparently you ‘like’ the site, you don’t become a ‘friend’. So lots of likes and kind reviews most welcome.
Had a Surf’s Up! staff gathering on Monday… great team. One of the best, nothing is ever too much trouble. Everyone’s really happy up at the Surf’s Up! HQ… clients and staff alike. Was a great move for us. Big thanks to Wail for rocking it as Beach manager, he really is a rock. To Elle, who’s taken the Office Manager’s job and shaken it down, we’ve never been so organised! She’s been doing the ordering for the shop stock and the hoodies, tees etc which look fresh and amazing. And to Little Sam who just keeps coming back, can’t get rid of her!

Here comes the chit chat!…
Don’t be fooled. I’m no cool surfer dude. Not anymore. Whereas once my low slow gait was a visual representation of a laid back attitude, the very same gait now represents tight hammies and rock solid achilles. Sadly, those cool surfer days have dripped through my fingers like a double choc chip dipped cone on a summer’s eve (you want a flake in that?). It is a wonder that I make it through each day. Business consultants talk about a five year plan? I’ll just take 24 hours at a time thanks. Seriously when I put my jim jams on and retire for the evening, I do a quick head to toe body check just to make sure that I’m still here. Up to this point I’ve enjoyed reasonable success.
The truth is that I am the clumsiest person on this planet. I spend most of my day rectifying what I’ve just broken or tripped over. This may come as a surprise to you, so I shall provide clear evidence and a strong case.
Last week, a wonderfully spirited elderly lady that I know needed her bush trimmed and unable to do it herself she was on the hunt for someone who could get on top of it. This was something that I felt I could take into my own hands, so I volunteered. I arrived at the house at the prearranged time complete with my new electric hedge cutters, extension lead and “Topiary for Dummies” handbook. We walked around the back where she showed me the offending bush. It had indeed got a bit ragged around the hedges! 
In true Poldark fashion (just the very mention of Poldark and I see the ladies have perked up!), I stripped off. Shirtless, I battled the unsightly bush, swashing and swathing for a good hour in the midday sun. It was starting to look great, starting to take shape, there was much to trim….until that is, without notice, the motor simply cut out. Just stopped! Nooooo. This was not good, this was very bad. Especially as I was half way through topiarising her bush into the shape of a Brazilian… Ayrton Senna (page 21). “Can you check the plug socket for me please?” I shouted in the direction of the shed, the power source. Checked. Nope, wasn’t that. I wandered up the garden, cutter in hand.. and it was at this point that I realised that my walk was unencumbered by the electrical lead. I looked back. OMG! I’d cut through the electric cable with the blades of my double action Qualcast! It was now cordless. Why was I still alive? Why weren’t my ears smoking? We stood there looking at each other in shock at the two severed cable ends. It didn’t end there. In amidst of our shock she’d dropped the shed key and it had bounced under the shed… so I got down onto my hands and knees to go find it. I couldn’t. Wasn’t there? “That’s odd” I said as I rose from off my knees to my feet and then promptly clouted my forehead on a rusty hook protruding from the wooden door. We stood there looking at each other in more shock, as the blood dripped through my fingers like a double choc chip dipped cone on a summer’s eve! Such a clown.
It didn’t even end there either. Two days later I received a text… “Thanks for all your efforts.. I think you might have cut through my clothes line?” Apparently, there was only enough rope left for her smalls. What can I say? Except, I rest my case.
I’m sure there was something businessy I was supposed to say? Can’t remember… oh yes come on down and see us at the beach, call 07760 126225 to book a lesson, perhaps pop into the shop and try on some of the new goodies…the sweatshirts are my favourites. And don’t forget to visit the Facebook page……we’re going to be keeping right on top of it. Just like the bush.
My work here is done.