Month: April 2020 (Page 1 of 2)

The morning of level 3. It’s got the feeling of first day back at school to it, you’re all in luck though. Wifey has already gone to work and Lola is no good with a camera, so I can’t do the obligatory ‘first day at school’ picture on the doorstep. I have cleaned my shoes though, you’ll just have to take me at my word on that. I am not sure what I am expecting, I have got a message from the boss that traffic is heavy. So I am guessing more than a select few essential workers are making the journey to work.
It’s an interesting point, this makes. How do you determine who can and can’t work under Level 3? Do I need to be in work? Quoting from the Employment New Zealand website it tells us “Businesses should carefully consider what activities are absolutely necessary and how to safely operate based on their individual circumstances”. Pretty ambiguous. Clearly employers have a duty of care to their employees. They have to protect their employees within the workplace; but what if you know your employee is the single only breadwinner for a family of five. Without their income the kids can’t eat, where does your duty of care lie then?

First day back at work done, what a day. Thl have got there monies worth from me today. The site was predictable quite but still plenty of jobs that needed catching up on and completing.
The highlights were predictable, seeing my friends and colleagues again. What a blessing I have had to be able to just hold a simple conversation with someone other than my immediate neighbours. I am sure as we move forward into level 3 we will see more people attending the site, by appointment only of course. But for now I will enjoy catching up and the company.

I have held back from the need to rush to McDonalds, the queue this morning as I went to work was incredible. I will be the first to admit I am not a great fan of Ronald and his burgers but clearly a great many Kiwis are. Why is a question for another time? But it just goes to show we crave most what we can’t have. Me I am still hanging out for that curry, but I can wait till the end of the week for that. It got me thinking, what are we really missing being stuck in our own homes?
We have had a crack at cooking various different meals, with mixed results. Even so aside my curry, food doesn’t seem that important.
I have enjoyed getting out in the car today, but I have spent many an hour behind the wheel so the novelty of that has worn off long before now.
Company has been an obvious miss, but with all the social media and video chat that is available I can hardly say I have not been speaking to anyone.
I realised what I missed most is the sea, by that I mean looking at it. It has been proven many a time that despite living near the sea my entire life; I am much better looking at it than on it.
When I have something to think about or I just want some me time, a walk or even just to sit and look at the sea has been something I have always done. I know I live quite close to the marina and I do like to look at the boats, but it doesn’t have that same relaxing rhythmic motion the sea has.
As a child I can still hear myself saying to my late mother “go see sea” and as the years rolled on we would both enjoy a walk by the sea. If it was belting it down with rain, coupled with thunder and lightning; that would be so much the better.
So that’s it,  what I have learned is I miss the sea and company the most. Oh and I miss my Mum but I didn’t need lockdown to teach me that.

Today is a great day, for two very good reasons. First off congratulations to my crazy cousin and his long suffering wife for the birth of their first child. A beautiful baby boy, weighing in at 7.78lbs. Mother and baby are doing well. I am certain by now the baby’s head has been well wetted and I am sure the rest of the family are as delighted as I am with the news.

The second piece of good news doesn’t compare in the same way as bringing new life into the world, but for me it’s important. Today is the last day of my lock-down sentence. I am to be released back into the wild; or at the very least I can go to work. For thirty five days I haven’t left the house for anything more than exercise, tomorrow I am a free man.
Free might be a strong term, Level-3 restrictions hardy make it a holiday camp. But I can go out and see that life exists outside of my bubble. I can have a little drive along the peninsula, enjoy the views like I have done many times before. The views that for the good of the population have been deprived of me. In fact deprived probably isn’t the right word. Nothing has been deprived of me; of any of us. Each one of us has made this sacrifice for each other and have done so willingly for the greater good of their fellow New Zealander. We all deserve to be very proud of what we have achieved, but sadly the fight has not yet been won. I know tomorrow I can leave this house, but with that comes a great responsibility. We still have responsibilities to keep each other safe. We must continue to stay in our household bubbles whenever we are not at work, school, buying the groceries or exercising. There are a great many things that we all miss; but now is not the time for complacency.
To put into context what we have achieved, I will give you an example. Roughly speaking Ireland holds many similarities with New Zealand, in that it’s an island nation and the population is similar. Ireland had its first case on 29^th February it took until the 27^th March for the county to go into lock-down. Us on the other had had our first recorded case on the 28^th February and went into lock-down on 21^st March. The alert level was initially set at level 2, rising to level 3 on the afternoon of 23^rd March. Beginning at 11:59 pm on 25^th March, the alert level was moved to level 4, putting the country into a nationwide lock-down. The swiftness we have all reacted has undoubtedly saved lives. I don’t hold to the argument of foresight, many countries had the same chance as us. Strong leadership, brave decisions and working together got us to where we are now, don’t spoil it.

As of the 25^th April the current numbers for each country are:

Ireland:                  Confirmed cases 19,262            Recovered 9,233            Deaths 1,087
New Zealand:    Confirmed cases 1,121               Recovered 1,142            Deaths 18

Please think about these stark numbers as you begin to think about returning to some sort of semblance of normal life.

I am trying hard not to work today, this is the only day I will have with my wife for a while. Not that we can do much, but sometimes it just nice to be in each other’s company. Or at least it was a few weeks ago!
It’s started off great! I have sorted out a problem with our online delivery schedule, which we are building for all the motorhomes we have due for collection. Despite lockdown we have still been taking orders and now it appears everyone wants their vans at once. The boys in the workshop are going to have a busy time of it. I have spoken to a couple of my customers and cleared my emails. This will be it for today, I am going to go and get a good bit of vitamin D and some exercise. I’ll let the boss decide where we are walking to, when she eventually drags herself out of bed.

The far reaching of blog continues to be a source of amazement to me. I know, I know a good few people dotted around the globe and I guess you have read about a few of them. But the messages I am getting from people I don’t even know is amazing. I can’t say it enough, thank you all for your support. I really don’t know where this journey is going to take us but stick with me for the ride and we all find out together.
My blog has also revitalised my connection with friends and family. I will be the first to admit I am not great at keeping in touch. My excuse is I spend all day talking to people, so by the time I get home I can’t be bothered. The latter is probably truer, that and I have my Facebook PA to keep me abreast on what everyone is up to.

We have had our walk, Lola is sleeping on the deck in the sunshine. Wifey has her head in a book and I am going to create some culinary delight for dinner. Just for a change it’s a curry. I am really missing a curry and hope our favourite curry house will be operating under Level 3.
It’s amazing the silly things you miss. Food is right up there, but just going to work and socialising, as sad as that sounds is probably my biggest miss.
I am also missing my golf, which will be allowed in some form under level 3. You can only play with people in your bubble. So there will be a mass of single players out there from Tuesday. There will be no pins either and cups will be turned upside down to avoid contact. It won’t matter, I am desperate to go out and play; not being able to putt the ball in the hole and lack of score a card will be the least of my worries after 5 weeks enforced break.
Curry prep is done and just in time as our afternoon is interrupted by a few neighbours coming for a social distancing drink. These little interludes have always been fun, I am seriously considering putting a bar on the fence line of my property and making it perhaps a monthly event. Our garden faces out from the house towards the street it makes sense to use ours as a base. If people are kerbside you can see them from the majority of the street. That and we like to be social, if the occasional beverage has to be consumed we will suffer that too for the greater cause.
This particular interlude turns into a real laugh. These I think are the best of times, no plans, just a few friends enjoying each other’s company. Nobody wants to go, it’s a great release for everyone. Coats are on, people are wrapped in blankets; aside me I am still in my shorts and T-shirt. I keep telling you, you don’t know what cold is. But it’s dark and we haven’t eaten, fortunately I just need to put some rice on, warm through my curry and knock up a few naan breads. I can do that under the influence of a couple of beers.
Full of the warming glow of curry and beers, we lazily watch a bit of TV before it bedtime. Here we discover we have committed a school boy error. Sometime this morning my wife stripped the bed, but between dog walks, curry making, social distancing beers and now it has all been forgotten about. Isn’t this the worst feeling ever, you’re all tired, comfortable and nicely dozy. When you discover you have to get busy again. The student days of sneaking under the duvet are gone, we have to make the bed.

So this is a surprise, somehow I have got my little page of utterings onto the list of Top 100 New Zealand Blogs & Websites 2020. Number 39 no less! I am a bit taken aback by this, these little thoughts and wittering’s of mine have only been born through a combination of boredom and a misplaced addition to my email list. We will see how long I can stay on this list, probably until they ask me for money I guess. For now I will bask in the recognition.
I must admit I am really enjoying writing these works, they are taking over my day a bit; but I must confess I am loving it. I am buoyed by the fact those of you reading The Diary of an Isolated Salesman are clearly enjoying it. I don’t know what it is you like, but clearly an Isolated Salesman holds some interest. It’s a massive thank you to all of you for taking a few minutes out of your day to read my considerations and recollections. As long as the ideas keep coming into my head I will keep writing them.

Today is another big day, today is Lola’s two year New Zealand birthday. Lola was the first of us to become resident, also the most expensive! This is one of the first pictures we took of her when we picked her up from quarantine.

Lola In New Zealand Day 1

Now for some work. With the imminent arrival of Level 3 there is a lot of planning in the background as to how the RV Super Centre can operate under these restrictions.  Along with a plethora of online meetings, emails, spreadsheets and other documents, it also means there is a lot of customers waiting for their new motorhomes that need to be spoken to. I have a lot to do all of a sudden and a relatively short time to do it in. Busy just how I like it.
As a light interlude from all this we also have our regular update from our CEO. These meeting have been excellent. An honest appraisal of the situation we are all in, what the plan is and how we will implement it. Jacinda has had my vote for the way she has kept us all abreast on what is happening, but Grant has been right up there. Fresh from as positive a spin as is possible in times like this, it’s onto the phones.
By about four o’clock I am running out of steam. Everyone who can be spoken to has been spoken to. All data sheets are up to date. My diary looks a bit of a mess, but I can sort that out another time. I have been inside for too long, it’s a beautiful day and its time I woke my little pup from her laze in the sunshine and took her for a walk.

All refreshed from our walk, I thought I might tell you a little more about our Europe trip. When I last wrote about it; I had just had a bit of a parking mishap and we were heading north into the Alps very much tails between our legs.
When we had left Nice we had thought our travels were over, but after a few days relaxing in the mountains we realised things weren’t so bad. Sure we had a shower curtain where are back window once was, but aside that we were good.
From Nice our original plan had been to drive around the coast to Italy. We hadn’t bothered too much with a road map, as long as the sea was on the right hand side of us we were going the right way. Now we were off-piste, we had to dig out the map. After a bit of study we realised we weren’t too far from Mont Blanc. Just to be clear, we’d seen it often enough; it’s a pretty big mountain. What I mean is the road we were on would take us right through it and into Italy. Not our original route, but the whole trip had always been pretty fluid.
You have to climb a fair way up to the Mont Blanc tunnel entrance and the van didn’t like this much, we had to stop to let the steam from the engine condense back into water before we made the last of the climb. That’s the beauty of old VW’s there is always something to keep you on your toes. Once through the other side we didn’t need to worry about overheating anymore. We had left blistering sunshine to emerge in torrential rain.
The plan was to travel a little further into Italy but the weather was horrendous so the first sign of a campsite we were in for the night.
After a few more days bobbling around we headed towards the lakes. These are spectacular features and a real pleasure to see. Como has got some real rugged beauty, although the drive is pretty nail-biting. We drove up the inside of wishbone, remember we are in a right hand drive car on left hand drive roads. I am looking at the cliff my girlfriend the oncoming and overtaking traffic. The Italians are mental when it comes to driving, whatever is in front of them is a target to be passed and where and when they try to overtake you is anyone’s guess. Oh and if they can’t pass because say its only single lane, the horn is there to remind you that you are still in their way.
We spend a night near Como then head for Lake Garda.
Now remember I said before, if you see someone who looks like they know where they are going, follow them. Well the same is true for campervans. We were just cruising about looking for a way to get down onto the lake road and hopefully find somewhere to park up for the night. When out of know where this little camper shot out in front of us and took the very next left across the traffic and down a small road. I was on him like a shot. It was a bit never raking, because he was going quick; to quick really. That and there is always the worry that he might just be going home, but he looked to me that he had some purpose so we tagged along. Just as we were beginning to think it would come to nothing we pulled on to what was effectively a building site. All nicely terraced out and scattered nicely with motorhomes. We had indeed pulled on to a building site, but after I had chatted to a few of the other campers it became quite apparent that the builders didn’t object to us staying as long as we were away and gone before they returned Monday morning. Should be no bother it was Friday afternoon, we had free camping and from where I managed to get us into you could trough a stone into Lake Garda if you wished. Saluti.

Lake Garda Campling

I have been relegated to the garage. Four odd weeks I have been stationed in either the corner of the lounge or more recently the dining table but today apparently my wife wants the room back. I haven’t really got to the route of why she wants me to move now, but I am a pacifist and see no need in an argument. I can sort of understand. We have an open plan kitchen/lounge/dinner, so I guess if I am there on the phone making a lot of noise she can’t really do much else. But why it’s taken so long to reach this conclusion is another question?
Anyway I pack up my laptop and move. I am heading to the garage, it’s the only other table we have in the house. I say table, it’s a bar leaner. Which I am sure isn’t going to provide the most ergonomic working environment and it will come with other distractions too. See I have a little bar in my garage. Unless I get myself a classic camper I won’t ever be putting a car in here so I thought what better than a beer fridge and a pool table. It was already carpeted out when we bought the place so it hasn’t taken much to turn it into my little bar. A friend of ours even bought me some coasters one Christmas, so Andrews’s Bar was born.

Andrew’s Bar

I am still debating with myself installing a telly, I guess when we get some sport to watch again I might put one in. But for now it has everything I want, a little sanctuary from normal life. Just what a bar should be. Only it’s not so much fun on my own. It great when friends come round, we get the music on, have a few beers and a laugh. But right now it’s not the same. Lola is rubbish at pool, she just wants to fetch the ball not pot them. There is only so many games you can play on your own.
Incidentally it wasn’t till I got to New Zealand that I rediscovered my love of the game. We were living in Newmarket at the time and a chance visit to the local Doolan Brothers Bar rekindled my love.
On a Thursday night they have a pool competition with a hundred dollar bar tab as the prize. We were in having a drink one day and I saw the sign and said to my wife “we should do this”; it will be a great way to meet a few people and could be some fun. I still remember her looking up and asking if I can play pool. Strangely in the thirteen odd years we had been together she had never seen me play. Now I am not great, but I can hold my own and as luck would have it I get better the more beers I have.
What I didn’t tell her; is that growing up as kids I can’t remember not having a pool table of some sort and obviously us getting involved in pubs, pool tables were always around us. Annoyingly my little brother was always better than me, proper miss spent youth that lad!
Anyway I have a bit of form but apparently not played for a lot longer than I thought, doesn’t matter there will be beer and that’s the best confidence giver you can find.
Thursday comes round and we go to the pub and sign in for the competition. There isn’t a huge crowd, but still twenty odd playing I guess. Its straight knock out and away we go. Now these trips to Doolans did exactly what I had hopped they would. Brought us into the community, made some great new friends and won a few beers along the way. I don’t think I won it on my first attempt, but I might have done. I have certainly won it a few times since, but either way we always had a cracking night in there with Scotty and the gang.

Drinking Voucher

Win or lose,
We’ll have some booze,
If we draw,
We’ll have some more.

Was pretty much the moto for the evening and we always succeeded in that.

I am worried my body clock is changing. I have always been an early to bed early to rise type of guy, but now due to the lack of activity I guess? I am having trouble sleeping. So I’ve taken to staying up later, reading or occasionally watching rubbish on telly. The rest of the household appears the same. I am up and working, Lola has not even showed her face and the wife. Well I guess she has an excuse, she didn’t roll in till about five this morning. So we won’t be seeing much out of her till lunchtime. It’s a funny thing, I am still getting the mental stimulus; between writing this and working, I am probably spending more time at my laptop than ever. It must be the physical excursion I am missing?
Now my sporting days are well behind me. I used to be quite a sporty kid, never really excelling at any one sport but always in the school teams. Played a bit of club rugby, swam at club and county level, I even fluked my way into the county four hundred meter trials once. Like I say never particularly stand out but always there and there about. Fast-forward to the present day and what do I do? In normal times I play golf, quite badly but I love the game. I try to play twice a week, it’s easier in the summer months obviously but even through the winter I can normally manage at least one round a week. Interestingly on the 14^th April New Zealand golf moved to the World Handicap System and I dropped nearly three shots off my handicap! This is the single best gain on my golf ever and I haven’t even swung a club!
The question is without my golf and the physical side of my work what am I going to do? What are any of us supposed to do? There must be plenty of others in the same situation? Lola likes a walk; but they have been getting further and further as I try to burn off more energy. Even she now is looking a bit wary when we step out the door. Running is out, I probably couldn’t get out the end of the street without causing myself some mischief. I started doing a few press ups and sit ups each day; but I will be honest I was disappointed with how few I could do. Each day I would add one more to the total and I guess you have to start somewhere but even then it felt embarrassing. So having considered my options very carefully, I will stick with walking the dog and she will have to like it. I am going to aim for Okoromai Bay today.

Okoromai Bay

It’s a rather dull and rainy day. From my little outpost I have not much to look at today, even my neighbour across the way who always appears to be able to find a job to do hasn’t been in action today.
The same lack of action seems to be true of my customer base today as well. It appears now the dust has settled on our extended lockdown and the realisation that even at level 3 not much will change for most. The initial euphoria and optimism has died down. I still have a good deal of interest from customers in purchasing motorhomes and as a team we are still securing vehicles for individuals. It just appears today the wind has been taken out of peoples sails. Strangely enough though, for all the people I have spoken to today. Not one has disagreed with the decision to stay in lockdown. Sure they would all dearly like to get back to leading normal lives, whatever that might look like after this. But each and every one has recognised their sacrifice is for the greater good of the country. Aren’t New Zealanders great?

So what to tell you about today? Well first off a little house keeping. I have neglected to tell you my LEGO® VW is finished, if I am honest it’s been done for a while but I have found more exciting things to tell you about.

VW Done

However now it’s done I have done a little research into my next little project. I have said it before but LEGO® has really moved on since my youth. Do you know there is even a LEGO® Taj Mahal! Five thousand and twenty three pieces of it. I don’t think that is for me but it did get me thinking about our trip to India.
Back in 2012 little Miss Facebook is doing her bit and keeping in touch with all her friends when she chances across an old school friend. I won’t tell you how many years it been since they had seen each other but they parted ways when they were about twelve. Fast forward a good few decades later and guess where he is? India. Now this guy is super smart, I know some clever people but this guy is another level and cracking fun with it. Loves to travel, loves a drink and especially happy talking about breaking wind. If it wasn’t for the brains side of it; it could be hard to tell us apart.
But at the time I didn’t know any of this, in fact neither did my wife really. All she knew was that he was in India, the contract he was working on was ending soon and if we could get a visa we had the opportunity of flying out, catching up with him and his lovely lady and seeing some of this most amazing country. So not being people to stop too long and think about things, this is exactly what we did. I don’t think it was no more than a couple, three weeks and we are on our way to Delhi.
They meet us of the plane and we are thrown straight into the throngs of Indian life. It is an amazing attack on your senses. The speed everything moves at, the colours, the sounds, the smells, everything. If ever you get the opportunity, go. I am sure I will not do this remarkable country justice in these few paragraphs and to be fair we only scratched the surface. One day I will get back and explore some more.
How did I know I was going to get on with this guy so well, simple? From the airport we did a little tour around and back to their apartment to drop of our cases and freshen up. He shows us in, to our room, all of that. Then takes me off to show me the kitchen. Just behind the kitchen door he has stacked two big cases of Indian beer. Stating; “I know you like a drink pal so I got some bits in for us, I have some Indian wine for you to try too”. This was the start of a blossoming friendship. We have travelled all around the world to catch up with these guys and every single time has been an experience to remember.
We have a week to pack in as much of India as we can and we have some very experienced travellers at our disposal to show us round. So before we have time to say “Jet Lag” we are off again. We do a whistle stop tour of Old Delhi, The Red Fort and Jama Masjid. There is no hanging around with these guys, they know we are only here for a short period of time and are going to cram as much into it for us as they can.
Next day we are off to see Gandhi Smriti. Gandhi Smriti formerly known as Birla House or Birla Bhavan, is a museum dedicated to Mahatma Gandhi. It is the location where Mahatma Gandhi spent the last 144 days of his life and was assassinated here on 30 January 1948. It is fascinating, the whole place has a quiet aura about it. Nothing grand, a place of peace and contemplation. From here we got to Raj Ghat, a memorial dedicated to Mahatma. It is the black marble platform that marks the spot of Mahatma Gandhi’s cremation. This place differs from Gandhi Smriti, in that it is teaming with people. All making their own pilgrimage to this sacred place. It’s here that I get introduced to one of India’s favourite games. As a rule, it appears Indians love to have their photo taken and if they can find a Brit so much the better. But is word is put out there that we are the next Posh and Becks, it goes mental.

One of my Indian family

I worry that there are pictures of us adorning mantelpieces right across India. My friend and instigator thinks this is hilarious. He’s right, but what a pain it was at the time. We meet school children, families, baby’s it all going off. Meanwhile all I can see in the background is my new mate laughing himself silly, he did manage to compose himself long enough to take a few good photos. My favourite is the guy who clearly didn’t want to speak but fancied a photo anyway.

Papped

We eventually escape from here and go have a look at Humayun’s tomb, a sort of red sandstone Taj Mahal. It did in fact create a precedent for future Mughal architecture so the Taj does bare a lot of resemblances to it. From here we head back to the apartment. I have convinced my new friend that he should watch the finial Manchester United game of the season. Back in 2012 the season is finely poised. It will be a Manchester club that wins it, but which one? I am a Liverpool fan and we have had a terrible season, so I have no interest in who wins and am openly supporting injuries.  So for the title we have Sunderland v Manchester United and Manchester City at home to Queens Park Rangers. On the final day of the Premiership all games are played simultaneously, City were top of the league, ahead of Manchester United on goal difference. However, a Wayne Rooney goal away to Sunderland gave United the advantage. A 39th-minute goal from Pablo Zabaleta, his first of the season, put City back on top at half time. In a dramatic second half Djibril Cissé equalised for Queens Park Rangers in the 48th minute. Shortly after, Joey Barton of QPR was sent off for elbowing Carlos Tevez; on his way off the pitch, he kicked Sergio Agüero, attempted to headbutt Vincent Kompany and squared up to Mario Balotelli. Classic Joey Barton and a real help with my injury supporting. Despite the numerical advantage, City went behind after Jamie Mackie gave QPR the lead in the 66th minute. As you can imagine, we are pulling my mate of the ceiling at this stage. As time wound down in both matches, it appeared that Manchester United would win the title with their victory over Sunderland. But Edin Džeko equalised for City in the 92nd minute. While United players waited on the field at Sunderland for a possible trophy presentation, Manchester City’s Sergio Agüero scored the game’s winner in the 95th minute to clinch the title on goal difference.
All I can hear from behind his hands is “Dirty Cheating Bitters”.

Game Over

Big day; I am certain everyone in New Zealand has got themselves in front of the TV or other Medias to listen to Jacinda and Dr Bloomfield. This has been one soap opera I have taken to. The degree of information and openness; and the willingness to give that information has been very refreshing. In my opinion both have been excellent leaders in this unique situation.
It’s very clear we wouldn’t be in the situation we are in without some very big and brave decisions. Making the call to put us all into lock-down was massive but ultimately proven the right one. I am certain the conclusion to keep us at level 4 for a few more days was equally as difficult a choice.
We as a nation have been asked to make some massive sacrifices and done so without complaint. We have done this not so much for ourselves and not just for friends, neighbours and colleagues; but all New Zealanders as a whole. We love our country and we love our people, now more than ever is the time to go that extra mile. In the great scheme of things we have sacrificed so little to save so much, one last push New Zealand; one last push.

Off my soap box now, I have no political agenda for my work and certainly don’t want my utterings to take on that form. So I thought I would tell you about my great love of music and how one piece of music I have carried throughout my life.
When it comes to music I will listen to anything; classical, blues, funk, punk, ska, grunge, I will listen to it all. I even like a bit of acid jazz from time to time. That being said I won’t be fobbed off, if its rubbish it gets turned off. My big loves are rock, grunge, brit-pop, indie, basically if it has a guitar in I am happy. But my one piece of music I carry with me is quite different, but you need the whole story to understand.
In my late teens I worked in The Victoria Hotel in Sidmouth, only washing up. Or a plate technician as I put on my early CV; but here I made a great many friends, close friends that I still have to this day. When I look back, the times I had at the Vic were some of the most fun times of my life. We were all young, not really thinking about our futures. Enjoying the present and having a great laugh doing it. The weekend was our time, I was at college doing an engineering diploma at the time so only working weekends. But every Friday and Saturday night without fail we were out in the hot bed of sin that was Sidmouth.
Going out with hotel staff is always fun, you sort of take over a pub on mass and wherever the hotel staff were doing their drinking was the place to be. Within this group was a core of us, the Ken squad. Five blokes that for reasons barely explainable would call each other Ken. The best bit was we always knew who we were talking to or about. Those on the outside looking in would get very confused about it all but we would be having great fun. We even had our own drink, Ken or Heineken to the uninitiated. At that time in the UK we had Heineken Export or Ken Sport to us.
Most evenings would start the same, we would nip into town to check out the local off-license for bargains. Pick up a takeaway and back to the hotel.
The Vic had its own staff accommodation block, lovingly referred to as the Annex where most of us lived. I say most of us, not me I was still a boy and living at home with my folks. But Friday and Saturday was our time, so out would come my sleeping bag and a night on Ken Lee’s sofa was ahead of me.
Every evening would start in much the same vein, munch whatever food we had. Drink the bargain beers we had foraged and play Mario Kart. Myself, Ken Lee and Ken Andy all in the same room. Lee had a bed, it was his room after all; and as Andy paid something towards it he had the other bed. Only he had to put up with a leaking water pipe and me throwing myself through the window at the end of the night. I didn’t get a key as I didn’t pay anything towards the lodgings so if I hadn’t come back after the others I would have to climb through the window and launch myself into the middle of the room, finishing with a sort of parachute roll and a bang into Kens bed if I got it wrong.
Each evening as we headed into town we would sing/hum this same tune and to this day I still associate it with all the great times I had with my friends. Only now I have another reason to remember this tune.
Before I tell you about that I need to recognise the two other original members of the Ken Squad. Ken Si and Flash. Flash sadly was taken from this earth too soon, so I will take a moment to remember friends laughed and lost. Next time you see a lone black sock, it will probably be his.
So we move forward a good few years, I can’t work it out exactly but its best part of twenty years and I am still carrying this silly little tune with me.
We move forward to the proudest and happiest day of my life. Our wedding day. I have always said I never wanted to get married and I never wanted kids. So I get a ring and inherit a child! I am proud of both in equal measures. I always felt I would make a terrible Dad but I got my girl at about the right time for me. She was around 12, all the screaming and poohing years well behind her and articulate enough to explain her problems. The perfect daughter for me. Every time I talk to her she amazes me with something else, bright, intelligent, good looking. All the things I’m not. She has forged her own way in the world and I could not be prouder.
The wife on the other had! I jest. As you might have gathered by now we have a very fun loving relationship. I absolutely adore my wife. Now is not the time to go through the list of troubles and tribulations she has gone through. But every time without fail she has triumphed. There is absolutely nothing this woman can’t do if she puts her mind to it. For that I will always be in awe of her.
She is also easily led by silly people like me to do silly things on big occasions. This is how I got the most beautiful, intelligent and wonderful woman in the world to walk down the aisle to this silly tune that reminds me of all the fun times I have had. Only now it reminds me of all the fun and all the love.

Wedding Cake

Oh and the tune, well what did you expect?

When you’re looking around for something else to clean, even Lola isn’t safe! My wife is still on course for the international cleaning world championships. I have never felt we live in a dirty house, quite the opposite. But this is getting beyond a joke, I am forgetting what fresh air shells like with the stench of bleach/Dettol/polish and whatever other mystery products she has wafting about the place. At the moment she is being entertained with some ironing, but this won’t last. The floors have got a mention again and I have been detailed to clean the windows. Honestly whatever the prize is she is going for; she better win or I will never hear the end of it.
Now it is Lola’s turn, she has gone from having a little nap by my feet to up to her ankles is bathwater in no time at all and it would be fair to say she is less than impressed with the whole performance.

Lola Bathtime

She has seen all this before though and knows the game. What she does is shuffle herself towards the plug and stand on it. We have one of these plugs that pops in and out with a little pressure. The pressure say of a small dog who doesn’t want a bath. So if you not careful all the water is gone and you are left with a very wet, soapy and nonplussed dog. She manages to perform this trick twice before we succeed in getting her clean. Again not that she was dirty before, but if you’re going to win the trophy you can’t let anything go to chance!
Now the next game begins. Drying said soggy dog before she shakes. This is an almost impossible task and from experience the best thing to do is wrap her in a big towel, pick her up and run outside before the inevitable happens. This time she manages to wriggle free and does her best shake right up the wall across the TV and half way across the sofa. Second time around she is outside before she has time to think about it. She even manages to pull off her butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth pose.

Lola Fresh from the towel

Now everyone and everything is cleaned to within an inch of its life, the wife settles on the sofa to watch some of her rubbish. I have time to write a bit of my nonsense and Lola risks coming back to sit by my feet.

I was talking the other day about my Europe trip and how I wasn’t fussed with France. It’s not really fair. France has some beautiful places. The biggest problem with France for me is the French. Now I must say I have met some lovely French people, I have even worked with a few; but by and large the French have an arrogance I can do without. They will stand and let you struggle through your best high school French only to respond to you in perfect English. But if you chose to try and speak to them in English they will have no comprehension of the language. For me they appear to want to go out of their way to make life difficult for you. I have many examples of this but here is just one.
We are in Nice visiting my girlfriends brother, now his French is pretty fluent; ours not so. Anyway we have had a tour round the old city, which is fascinating. Ride the train of shame as her brothers dubs it. The train of shame is one of those little tourist trains that is really a tractor with some sort of false facade to make it look like a train, that ferries tourist around the city looking at points of interest. Now we had an honouree local who had been working as tour guide for a good few years so we had seen the best of what Nice had to offer but what this did, eventually is gets you to The Castle Hill Park. This historic hilltop park offers dramatic city and ocean views and is well worth the trip. You can walk up to the park but taking the train seemed like fun. Anyway we had a nice day in Nice and headed off to our campsite. Camping close to Nice, at least back then is limited so we car going to stay on a campsite just off The Grande Corniche, this is a glorified car park but the views are magnificent.
The Grande Corniche is one of three different routes following the mountainous stretch from Nice to Menton and creating one of the most dramatic and inspiring views in Europe. All of them are carved into the mountainside. The other two are Moyenne Corniche and Basse Corniche (sometimes called the Corniche Inferieure). Basically top middle and bottom. All are spectacular drives, you will see them featured on car adverts a lot, I think even Hitchcock filmed something here. It is truly spectacular scenery and because of this scenery very dangerous. Tourists are all rubber necking the view and not watching where they are going.
Our plan in the morning is to drive to Monaco, have a look around. Then come back to meet her brother in Nice. No problem, we are up early head out along what I think was The Grande Corniche but I remember one hundred percent. It is truly an amazing drive. We hit Monaco mid-morning and I managed to navigate the van around part of the famous Grand-Prix circuit. Knackered old VW’s aren’t meant for GP circuits but what you don’t appreciate from the telly is how narrow it is. Nelson Piquet famously likened racing round the course to “riding a bicycle around your living room” and having driven only part of it on open roads I can see where he is coming from. We park up and do the touristy bit then head back to Nice.
The plan is to put the van in a secure multi-storey carpark and have an evening out in Nice. Kipping back in the van if we can if not we will go sofa suffering at her brothers. I pick a spot in the corner of the carpark that I think we will be ok to sleep in and back the van in. What I don’t see is the massive air-conditioning unit poking out the wall about head height. So now we have no rear window and a lot of glass in our bedroom!
I discover quickly that I know more French words than I thought and even my girlfriend has become somewhat fluent. Here is where the French arrogance comes to pass. I know I have ballsed up, we all make mistakes and I am big enough and ugly enough to put my hand up for mine. So I head off to look for some security guard or something. What I really want is a broom (le balai) and maybe a box to put all the glass in. The less then helpful security guard gives me the world’s smallest dustpan and brush. We have a bigger one in the van!
Meanwhile my girlfriend has been on the phone to her brother who arrives to help the situation. He talks to the guard, who despite being spoken to in his own language still appears anything but helpful. So we have no choice, I am sorry to report I kick out what is left of our back window in the car park and scarper.
I am thinking it not so much of a drama, I have international insurance so a quick phone to my insurer gives us an address in Nice to go to. We have a French speaker with us, no problem. I forget the name of the company but it is one of those big multi-national franchises. They bring out a procession of people to look at the back of the van. There is the traditional sucking of teeth all tradesman seem to do when they think they can make a bit more money out of you. Then one by one they start giving us reasons they can’t do it. We don’t have the glass! Yes you do that’s why we are here, my insurer spoke to you and we drove here specifically as you had the right glass. Ah well it’s a bigger job than we thought! The glass won’t fit as there is a small buckle in the frame. This buckle was there pre accident and that bit of glass fitted perfectly before I rearranged it. But it doesn’t matter, my insurer speaks to them over the phone we speak to them face to face. As we overcome one objection they find another. We are caught in a French arrogance and unhelpfulness circle. If they just said, look its four o’clock we don’t fancy the job right now, could you come back on Monday? That would have been fine, I could have lived with that, but all they wanted was to get rid of us. So in the end we left. No big night out in Nice, we couldn’t risk leaving the van so open. We had to improvise. Duct tape and a shower curtain, style improvisation. I am sad I can’t find a picture of this because we did a cracking job. None the less we left Nice and headed North into the Alps, thinking our trip was over.

Wifey has the joy of going to the supermarket. I like to go to the shops and just at the moment I would like a little ride out anywhere. But it makes sense to us for just one person to leave the house and as she is out and about anyway with work it might as well be her. The report back is its very quiet, no queues. Shelves by and large well stocked. Flour still seems in short supply, when did we become a nation of bakers? Aside that everything she wanted we got, I even got a treat. Every now and again I like a little pastry. The swirly jobs with the raisins in, Danish I think they are called. Anyway one of those is always gratefully received. The supermarket has obviously cottoned on to the idea that people may want little indulgences like this and bundled them together in a big bag with other niceties in. I am sure they will argue it’s about people contact or something like that, I don’t care. I have a Pain au chocolat now too. It’s going to be a great day.

Breakfast of Champions

Work is really picking up pace. The thought that we may come out of lockdown soon has appeared to have given people renewed confidence. That and I am sure people are thinking they won’t be having a foreign holiday anytime soon, best we explore our own back garden. What a beautiful back garden it is too. I have only been here about two and a half years and in that time have pretty much only gone North of Auckland. I see a great opportunity to get out and about and discover what else New Zealand has to offer. Feel free to message me any recommendations.
The South Island is right up there for discovering when it warms up a bit. We did go to Christchurch once by mistake and were confronted with true Kiwi compassion. We were coming back from a long weekend in Australia visiting friends and to say it was a bit blowy when we tried to come into land in Auckland was an understatement. The pilot, obviously some sort of daredevil did give it a couple of goes; but we were coming in sideways. A landing in those conditions would have been a miracle and I didn’t need to test out the emergency exits. So we are diverted to Christchurch. The airline promising to find us all accommodation.
Once we get airside it is quite apparent we are not the only flight diverted that evening and the strain on the faces of the ground crew said it all. At the first mention of blankets I knew a plush fully paid hotel would be out of the question and that’s when we got lucky. Remember I am the nice guy who likes to talk to everyone. I had been chatting with a nice couple, little bit older than us and struggling a bit to keep up with what was going on. What they weren’t struggling to keep up with though was technology, that and the fact that there was no way they were bedding down on the airport floor for the night. Straight on the web, booked a unit with two double rooms and we are cordially invited to come with them for the evening. I am still grateful to this day. Our first time pitching down in a city we didn’t know and the good faith and nature of a Kiwi couple we had never met before came to our aid. If ever I was in any doubt that a move to the other side of the world was a mistake, the compassion and hospitality of this wonderful couple sealed the deal. So remember, be nice and talk to everyone, you never know who you are talking to.

It’s really wet and windy up here today, very much more autumnal than it has been and Lola doesn’t like it. She is a bit of a softy really, as much as she wants to go out when stood at the door with the options of a walk the anchors are firmly deployed and off back to her bed she goes. As for any loud noises, it straight into her cupboard to hide. Normally I can coax her out, but not today. Today for Lola will be a day spent mostly on her own, until about six o’clock when we sit down for dinner, then I all of a sudden its play time!

I am a bit late with this post, sorry. Thursday was a busy busy day and in the end I just ran out of day to write my wittering’s.
Yesterday I suffered a bit mentally, but today I am back on form. Calls are flowing, productivity is high. I even secure a few deposits. Today I am loving being an Isolated Salesman. My head is back in the right place, I have a clear plan and I am actioning it.

Even Jacinda’s one o’clock briefing, which I am sure has become part of everyone’s lives right now; offered a little hope. In the great scheme of things, I am not sure Level 3 will feel much different to Level 4. I might be able to go into the business for pre-arranged handovers of vehicles but I guess everything else I can do from home. It’s clear the shop side of the business won’t be able to open normally, but a click and collect facility might be an option. I only speculate, these decisions will be made by more senior members of the team than me. But there is light at the end of the tunnel, all be it just a glimmer.

Lola gets her evening walk. We have been discussing her wellbeing, I know she is getting on a bit. But there should be plenty more go in her for a good few years yet. It’s almost like she is missing her own space now. There was a piece on Seven Sharp which I caught about our pets suffering from anxiety separation. I say I caught, I watch TV by proxy. Whatever the boss has decided to watch is what I have to watch. Anyway, I don’t think Lola will be suffering with any anxiety separation post Lock-Down. I think she is waiting for us to go back to work so she can get back to lazing in the sun without disturbance.
She has become a proper funny little thing. Given the choice she will stay in her bed till about ten ish, then she will have a little potter about the garden, bit of a drink and some breakfast. If I am typing she will stay with me but if I am on the phone, she bogs off back to bed. She even comes to have the occasional little sneaky look. She will peep round the corner at me and it’s almost like she is disappointed that I am still there, so off she goes back to bed. Normally when you come home from work, we are greeted with this rush attack of wagging tail and bouncy dog. When the wife comes back from shift, at best now Lola might get up and peep out the bedroom door. I think she needs her own space.

My favourite Lola pic, about 6 months old

The real reason I had no time to write anything last night, was Thursday night is quiz night. Back in the normal world, we meet up with some friends and attempt the quiz at the local bar. Yogis Bar and Eatery. When all this is over, make sure you support these local business. Types of business like this is what brings the community together and after this is all over it is exactly what we will need.
In light of the bar obviously being shut, a great friend of mine has seen fit to create his own virtual quiz. It’s a combination between a Zoom meeting and Kahoot quiz and it works great. We can all get together, safe in our own little bubbles. Have a drink, a chat and a laugh, interrupted only by the occasional quiz question. We are nowhere near winning; we did have a victory for the Brits against a strong South African contingent on Saturday but that was a fluke. Normally we are mid table mediocrity. No chance of relegation, but absolutely no chance of making the play offs either.
It’s a cracking night, the quiz its self is all over by about nine. But we stay chatting and drinking for a good while after. It is absolutely what we need in situations like this. If you can’t go to your friends, you friends have to come to you; well virtually at least.

Today starts off much like yesterday, I still have plenty of the database to go at and get on the phone as soon as I can. Only today it’s not happening. I am still making my happy happy phone calls but for whatever reason they are not going down so well. In normal times I would go and do something else, but these aren’t normal times. I haven’t got the opportunity to nip out onto the forecourt and speak to someone, or even have a little shuffle around of the vans. It’s only me and my computer. The wife didn’t get home till about four this morning so is having a lay in, before she does the same sort of shift later today. I have no escape. Today homeworking isn’t so much fun.
I fight it through till about lunchtime, when I break off to cook up a quick chilli. As much for my sanity than anything else. But it does insure wifey goes to work with a hot meal inside of her. I glance at the one o’clock briefing, but even that isn’t grabbing me today. Sometimes being an Isolated Salesman is no fun and today is that day. I am sure it’s just in my mind but I need an escape. Lola who had been fast asleep on my feet get a surprise walk and I call it a day. When it’s not happening for you, you are better off stepping away. So that’s what we do, lots of steps.

Rather than bore you with my mental instability I thought I would start on another of one of my motorhome adventures. On my European trip we are just about in France and I am not so keen on France so we will come back to that. More exciting than France is Canada!
I am very fortunate, I have family in Canada who have as luck would have it have a RV sales, repair and rental business based in Lockport, Manitoba. Styling’s RV LTD, look them up. Great guys and a fountain of knowledge and a great base to travel from if you want to drive the Trans-Canada Highway. Well at least some of it, Canada is a big county!
One thing before I start on my journey. My Canadian family’s business is Styling’s RV LTD, but our surname is spelt Sti not Sty. There is a very simple explanation for this. Like a great many Stiling’s before them; they have got fed up with explaining how to pronounce our surname. Spell it phonetically and put it above the door seemed the most sensible cause of action to them. I am also hoping I will be able to tell who is reading this by their future pronunciation of my surname.
From our base is Lockport we are effectively going to travel form Winnipeg to Jasper National Park. Along the 16 through places like Saskatoon and Edmonton. Then down through the Icefields Parkway to Banff and back along the Trans-Canada Highway to Winnipeg. About a three and a half thousand kilometer round trip, which sounds a lot but for Canadians this is a weekender. We take a little longer.

Bigfoot

Our home for this trip is a Bigfoot. A real beauty of a motorhome that aside me chipping the windscreen never missed a beat. Some may look at this as large, we turned down the bigger one. The bigger one was a bus, pull out sides the works. We were very happy in Bigfoot and I am still very grateful to my family for allowing us the use of Bigfoot for our trip.
Oddly I can’t remember this trip as vividly as I can my European trip, perhaps it’s an age thing? So I won’t give you a blow by blow account of the drive, more some of the highlights of the journey.
So in no particular order; if you ever get the chance, go to Dinosaur Provincial Park. Dinosaur Provincial Park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site located about two-and-a-half hours’ drive east of Calgary in a small place called Drumheller. The park is well known for being one of the richest dinosaur fossil locations in the world. Fifty-eight dinosaur species have been discovered at the park and more than 500 specimens have been removed and exhibited in museums around the globe. We had a bloody good look around and couldn’t add to this.

The scenery is spectacular, as I hope these few pictures show. You can camp pretty much next to these views and it is well worth a couple of days just exploring the walks and soaking in the history of the place. Not far away is the Dinosaur Provincial Park Visitor Centre, which features exhibits about dinosaurs, fossils, and the geology and natural history of the park. It is fascinating, you could lose a good day just looking at everything they have found.

Back to work today and I have a huge amount of our database to contact. So set about it with great earnest. Some salespeople despise prospecting and if it’s just for the sake of it so do I, but when you have a clear message and need then it’s great. I mean I get paid to talk to people.
Making the call is the biggest psychological barrier you have to get through, once you’re on the phone its fine. If you spend to long looking at the inquiry or thinking about it you will find more reasons not to call than you will to call. So in my eyes it’s simple, head down and get on with it. By lunchtime I am more than halfway through and running out of steam. I do like doing it, but it is a little bit ground hog day after a while. There is only so many ways you can ask the same questions. The trick is; in my mind to make every conversation fresh and personal. I have worked in plenty of places and sat in plenty of training sessions that will tell you their script is golden. ‘Stick to this boys it will sell you plenty’!
Rubbish; people buy from people. If you don’t build rapport, a relationship, then they will buy from anyone or worse anywhere. I want my customers to buy from me. I want them to remember me, not necessarily the company I work for, but me. The biggest compliment you can get as a salesman is a referral from an existing customer. It means you have done your job right. I like to think the conversation goes something like; “where did you get your new motorhome from?” “Andrew, I’ll give you his number”.
For that reason I don’t use scripts. Don’t get me wrong, I have a few. I have even written a few, but for me they are guides. It’s all good to get you point over, but don’t follow them to the letter. People aren’t stupid, they will ping a scripted sales call or one from a struggling salesperson straight away. So don’t bother, talk to them like you know them and make friends. It’s an easier call all round, you come off the phone feeling buoyed by the whole thing and hopefully your customer does to. The next call is even easier.

So that’s my day, I break off at one to listen to Dr Bloomfield and have a little lunch.
If ever there was a man for the job at hand this is the man. A true public speaker who genuinely knows his subject inside out. I am not too sure about the others who get a go when Dr Bloomfield and Jacinda aren’t available, but these two I can relate to and be confident with. They have sold themselves to me, much like the rest of the general pubic I guess?
He does read his points from a script but most of what he says I get the impression is from the man himself. Watch him next time, particularly how he answers the questions. Honest, genuine, he’d make a good salesman.

In an end of day debrief with my boss we get on to the subject of mystery shoppers. Now I know everyone needs a job and feedback is a great learning tool. But these people are parasites! Waltzing around car dealerships wasting salespeople’s times so they can go out for a jolly in a nice new car and report back how badly you did at trying to sell it to them. I have never liked these people; I know it doesn’t show!
I have always argued that each customer is different and the process to sell them a car or whatever, is different every time. So what’s the point of Mr or Mrs Mystery-shopper coming round to check you have met all the requirements? It’s as irrelevant as the criteria you have to meet. Sure there are certain things you kind of have to do to sell anything, demonstrate it and ask if they want to do buy it for two. Now this might sound flippant but you would be amazed how many sales people don’t ask for the business. But then there are other things that are outside of your control. Spoken to within five minutes of walking on the forecourt! There are two trains of thought on this too. Do you leave the customer alone to browse or do you jump on them within five minutes of them arriving. Each customer is different but the criteria for mystery shoppers is the same.
Anyway I digress from the story I was going to tell. The story of my first ever mystery shop.
Still relatively new to the motor trade I had just started working for Honda UK. I hadn’t been with them very long and was still learning the ropes so to speak. I had a lovely little desk at the back of the showroom, where I could survey all. And n this fateful day I was watching our assistant sales manager (ASM) trying to juggle his customers. I have always hated this from any salesperson, you can only deal with one customer at a time and as soon as you try to do differently it goes wrong. What our dear ASM used to go was collect all the internet leads and pop them into his diary. The rest of the sales team would be scratching around but he would have appointment after appointment. Today was no different, he had picked up a walk-in customer knowing he had a pre-booked test drive at the same time. The rest of the team were busy and I was just happy to watch this unfold. Now our friend the test drive was getting very agitated, with hindsight more so than a normal customer. Consequently after about twenty minutes of floundering around said ASM called on me to take the gentleman out for a test-drive.
Now honestly I had been with Honda about a week, I knew all the cars but when it started getting down to the minutiae I had no idea. So I go fetch the car, I can still remember it. A 2.0ltr CRV SR 2WD Auto. A nice car but probably a little underpowered for British roads and certainly not the best on fuel.
Now, we had a strict, salesman drives first policy. For good reason, not only where we on a particularly busy road. But the highest point of agitation for the customer is the first three minutes of the test-drive. So if that’s the case I would rather be driving than them.
My friend wasn’t having a barn of this and if I am honest I didn’t put up much of a fight. So off we go, more points already lost. I am doing my best to get the guy back onside, talking about anything but the car. He was a drummer so needed a big boot, tick for the CRV. I am chatting about music. What style does he play, all of that? But he keeps trying to talk about the car. I have learned now; generally speaking people like to talk about themselves, they are proud of what they do. When they don’t be worried, it’s either a robbery or a mystery shopper. Anyway I am all new to this, I am naive. It’s at this very point he jumps in with what is a very simple question, one of which I have all the answers to now. But not then. So he says “what’s the fuel economy like?” To this day I don’t really know where it came from but in reply to this very simple question I chose these immortal words. “Fuel economy? You won’t get passed many petrol stations in this!”
What I didn’t tell you about mystery shoppers is that they are like spies and have a little cameras pinned to their tie or wherever. I have learned now to look carefully, I may in later years have leant across the desk to address the tie directly to ask if they would be buying the car today?
But not this time, I am still green. So back to the dealership we go. I offer our friend a coffee. There is points for that, so a small reprieve. Pass him back to the ASM to try and work his magic on what I can only imagine was a disastrous situation.
A month or so had passed and I hadn’t really given it any though. Or at least until I could hear my sales manager roaring from his office behind me. He was watching my first screen play. It would be fair to say I had some explaining to do, but the ASM took the brunt of it for not managing his time better. I got let off with the immortal words, we all get one bad mystery shop.
It turns out he had been caught once lounging against a car in the showroom. When Mr Mystery-shopper had asked him about the car he slid the brochure across the bonnet at him, telling him “all the information is in there, come back and tell me which one you want”.

Ever wondered why Easter moves about so much? It can be anywhere between March 22^nd and April 25^th. An odd thing considering that this is the time Christians celebrate the resurrection. I’ll tell you in my most simplistic of explanations. Nobody knows the exact date of the resurrection. For all the things written and recorded about Jesus and his disciples. The followers of Christ neglected to record the exact date of his resurrection. What they did know is the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ happened after the Passover, so followers wanted Easter always to be celebrated after the Passover. And, since the Jewish holiday calendar is based on solar and lunar cycles, each feast day is movable, with dates shifting from year to year. So there you have it, probably the most significant Christian celebration is based on another religions calendar.
There is of course the debate over the lunar calendar. The Paschal Full Moon (The name “paschal” is derived from “Pascha”, a transliteration of the Aramaic word meaning Passover) may not be the exact same date as the actual astronomical full moon. The scholars of the day modified it slightly from its original form, by 1583 A.D. the table for determining the Ecclesiastical Full Moon dates was permanently established and has been used ever since to determine the date of Easter. But I like things simple, it’s after Passover.
What I have never considered is that presumably the lunar calendars are the same for both hemispheres? What I have noticed is that; in the northern hemisphere the first quarter moon looks like a growing D, while in the southern hemisphere it looks like a C. The things you notice when you’re an Isolated Salesman!

This is all heavy stuff for my wittering’s, what Easter means to me is friends. Even in the motor trade I would wangle a few days off together and spend it with friends and family. It’s always a nice long weekend.
In the UK pubs, bars and off-licences don’t shut down over Easter and it’s always a great day out. There is always loads of sport to watch. Friday is generally league and championship football, it’s the tail end of the season for us so there is pretty much interest in every game. Who will get promoted, who will get relegated. Then for the rest of the weekend we will have a pleather of premiership football to watch, smattered with other great sports. Our rugby season is also nearing its end so there is plenty going on.
So imagine our surprise when we first landed here, new to the area we are living in Newmarket, its Christmas morning the wife is working and like all guys I think I will have a walk to the pub for a lunchtime bevie. Back home like a drink over the Easter weekend this is tradition, in fact in my little town for locals the first pint is gift from the landlord. So every pub is rammed with people having a free beer. Hours are limited and generally speaking everything is shut by 3pm so you can wobble home for Christmas dinner and a sleep on the sofa.
I have told you before about our pubs, I remember one year very fondly. Back then in our little town there were three pubs. My parent’s pub at the top of the street, another a little further down and one tucked up around the corner. Sadly there is only two pubs now, I guess this is the sign of the times. Anyway; we each only opened for two hours. We went first eleven to one, the next would open twelve to two and the last one to three. You can see how this played out. There would always be a glass of fizz at one of my dear friend’s house first, then we would rush back open up and let the onslaught begin. Happy times, everyone is in good spirits. New Christmas jumpers on display, everyone dressed well. The staff and landlords of the other pubs would always come for a drink in with the completion and help with glass collecting or whatever. It was an amazing time and now I think about it something I really miss.
Besides all that sentimental nonsense; once we had cleared out the last few stragglers, it would be our turn for a beer. The benefit of opening first I suppose. We had the more relaxed end of day. Only on this particular occasion my farther got a little too relaxed. Lunchtime whiskeys was never going to end well. I remember getting home first to help with dinner and my Mother asking where my Dad was. My Mum very rarely raised her voice, she didn’t need to. You knew when you were in bother and my father was no exception to this. When he eventually bumbled through the back gate. Very few words were exchanged and my father was sent to bed.
Absolute classic Mum, for all her health problems she was the power behind the thrown, of that there was no doubt. But my parents wouldn’t have been the team they were without each other.
Anyway the point I was making before my trip down memory lane was that it might be time for New Zealand to revisit their Licensing Laws? Or maybe it isn’t, perhaps it’s the little quirks like this that make New Zealand what it is and why I love it so much.

As this is supposed to be a diarlisation of my days, it’s probably worth ticking off what we have been doing. NOTHING! Just like all good Kiwi’s unless my wife has been to work we have stayed home and its driving me, like everyone else I am sure around the bend.
I have tried to give each day purpose, have a task or job to achieve. But the honest truth is that even then I run out of things to accomplish by around lunchtime. Normally I have a little bit of work to keep me sane, but all the little menial jobs I have been saving are done now. There is only so much PlayStation I can do and walks that Lola will go on before even she goes and hides. I am bored. We have even started watching movies to kill the time. Now I should qualify that, I don’t watch films. Unless its sport or a documentary I don’t watch a lot of TV period. Apart from Location Location Location, that is my dirty little secret. I like to listen to music or read, so for me to sit down and watch a film is a big thing for me. I started with The Meg as I thought I might be able to spot bits of Auckland and the Hauraki Gulf in it, you can’t. Or at least I didn’t see anything. Then we moved onto Happy Gilmore, the wife’s choice but a silly film that whiles a way a few moments. Incidentally I do like to watch the occasional stand-up comedy and Adam Sandler has a really good stand up on Netflix’s; Adam Sandler 100% Fresh. This is well worth a watch and I guarantee it won’t be what you expect.

Today is Easter Sunday and today I am going to amuse myself by creating the traditional Easter Sunday meal of Roast Lamb. Incidentally Roast lamb is the main dish at Jewish Passover too, small world. Anyway I am going to keep it simply, largely because the contents of our cupboards dictate. A garlic and rosemary studded leg of lamb, rosemary might be the first challenge. Served with roast potatoes and whatever vegetables we have in the fridge. In a posh restaurant it might read “vegetables of the season”, believe me it amounts to the same thing. In true Keith Floyd style I pour myself a glass of wine and get on with it, I will try and save some of the wine to make the gravy with later.
I am quite happy cooking, the preparation side of cooking I have always found quite cathartic. Service was always a stress and I never liked that side of it. But now I don’t need to worry about that anymore, I can just enjoy the creating and the eating.
While dinner is roasting we have a game of 90’s Trivial Pursuit, some friends found this game in a charity shop and thought it would make a funny gift. It did, but for a couple of Brits having a 90’s quiz based mainly around Australian culture it made it tough. I win. My prize it appears is to spend the evening talking to my wife and not you all. Apparently I am spending too much time talking to you all and taking the mickey out of her!

My darling wife slipped into bed about four this morning, back from her shift. Slipped is one way of putting it, tripping over the dog and diving head first at me is another! So while she blissfully sleeps I have plenty of time to start my utterings.
I am getting very used to working from home now and if truth be told, now I have stopped playing at it I am very productive. Not so much at the selling part of my role, but that will come as people’s confidence grows and we begin to see light at the end of this lock-down tunnel.
So I am plenty busy enough today, I have data to cleanse and reassign, clients to call and email. We even have an update from our CEO to look forward to, plenty to keep me out of mischief.
I have been pondering, after all this is over if we should explore working from home as an option. In the great scheme of things most of us have access to a laptop and a phone. Internet speeds are good, why couldn’t we? Obviously there are plenty of roles where it couldn’t work, with a role like mine I really need to be there to meet my public. That being said, it could be equally beneficial to have say one day a week where I work from home and keep up with my admin?
That and most importantly, I don’t like wearing trousers, or socks for that matter! I have got very used to knocking about in my shorts, and yes I know we are heading towards winter. But I come from the UK, you don’t know what cold is. I could be quite happy in my shorts and flip flops (jandals for my Kiwi friends). I suppose there could be a Health and Safety aspect for the flip flops, but I have other shoe options. Although the steel toe capped Toms® I fear is a little way off. But shorts, that fits in nicely with the holiday atmosphere we are trying to sell. I think it could be a winner. So while I am at home I will continue with my no trouser/sock ethos. I mean no one ever sees anymore of me than from the waist up on a Skype call, what I have on below the table is up to me.

Last though on Spain before we have a change of county. From Montserrat we head towards Barcelona. It’s not far away and after the start of the day we have had, we don’t want to travel far. What I had not considered is that tonight is Euro 2008 finial. Spain vs Germany at the Ernst-Happel-Stadion in Vienna, Austria. Despite the fact that the final was being played in Austria it appears the best part of the population of Spain is heading to Barcelona to watch the game. This is a problem for us, pitching up on the side of the road will be too dangerous and the police will most likely move us on anyway. The little cheapy campsites I normally favour will be full, so we do something I hate to do and head for one of the larger more commercial sites. The chances of getting a pitch are much greater. I am not the sort of guy that books ahead, I like to travel in the morning till I see something of interest and stop there. Sometimes it’s only half an hour sometimes it’s half a day, but the rule is simple. You see something and stop. I have learnt from my own mistakes, there is nothing better around the corner and invariably you can’t turn around for miles.
This time it’s different, we have a destination to head for. It’s everything I thought it would be, full of kids charging around the place and much more expensive than it needed to be. But it has a space for us and the facilities are good.
After we get settled we do take full advantage of the facilities and do some washing. It’s all go go go this travelling lark. Then I have a new plan, the bar looks promising, I like football and yes it is called football. It’s not been Americanised. They have a sport called American Football that has very little to do with kicking a ball, they can call their sport soccer if they like. Anyway I head for the bar, my girlfriend has already had enough of today and the idea of standing is a bar watching football does not appeal one bit.
Here is another top travel tip, look for the Dutch. Invariably they can speak most languages and are always in my experience great company. This is exactly what I do, I meet up with a splendid Dutch guy and are joined by a German chap. He is keeping is head down as he is clearly in the minority in this bar, but like all of us keen to see the game. Between us all we can have a joint conversation, mostly edited by our new Dutch friend but who cares. We are men drinking beer and watching football. It’s a good game too, Spain win after a tremendous Fernando Torres goal. My German friend right to keep his head down, skulks away as the Spanish singing reaches crescendo. One of the most memorable games of football I have witnessed, not because of the game but the company and the surroundings. Proving sport really does overcome all differences.

Oh and I have got the windows into my VW.

Another day looking out the window, today we have something very welcome to look at. Rain, not enough yet but it is trying. The only one not excited to see the rain is Lola, she can’t understand why she can’t go out and play. I have tried to explain to her about the nation’s cleanest home completion but she having none of it.

I have a busy day ahead of me. A little data reassigning work, which should numb the brain gently and a good amount of customers to contact. I get the boring bit out the way first before I start on the phone calls. I have said before it’s a great time to be salesman making phone calls. People are stuck in their bubbles and want to talk and I like to talk, so it’s a perfect storm for me. I am not selling too much, but generally there is a fair amount of interest and anyway I like a chat.

My days are getting somewhat settled now. I am still waking up fairly early, I have always been a bit of an early riser. Once I have assessed if Lola has any interest in a walk or not, I have a read of the news. I like to keep abreast on what is happening in the UK as well as here. I still have a lot of friends and family in the UK and first thing in the morning is generally the best time for me to call or message them. After that I will have a little start on my Blog, it sort of evolves as the day goes on; but I normally wake with some sort of idea as to what I am going to write about. Then its work. Jacinda calls lunch break at one, so I have a listen to her for half an hour to find out the nations state of play. Then back to work or my blog depending how productive my morning has been. Today I have been kept busy all day so I am behind on my story telling.

One of my blog followers asked about my Spanish travels and if I had visited Montserrat, well we have and you should to. It truly is a magical place, but not for the faint hearted as you will read. For those that don’t know Montserrat is a mountain top monastery in Catalonia, Spain. Situated atop an unusual rock mountain, it is very popular among Catalans, and Catholic pilgrims who come from far and wide to see the Black Madonna.

Montserrat

We had been told that the only way to get up to Montserrat is via the cable car. It’s not or at least it wasn’t then. You can take the funicular railway or even drive up to the top. But we went for the cable car. A 1930’s cable car that whisks you four and a half thousand feet up the mountain in about five minutes. It promises spectacular views and it doesn’t disappoint, if you can keep your eyes open.

Montserrat Cable Car

My girlfriend, not so keen. It had been her idea to come, but this wasn’t the pilgrimage she had been think of. Frightened wouldn’t have even been close to describing how she arrived at the top. Spending the rest of the time we were up there clutching her water bottle and rock wall where she sat with equal and unyielding pressure. I had time to scoot around and see the sights, it was early when we got there but I have been told the queues to see the Black Madonna can be over an hour long at peak times. I was in and out in a few minutes. I have said before I am not a religious guy, but the statue and whole area defiantly had a feel about the place that I couldn’t begin to comprehend to you. We wanted to listen to the midday Salve, a boys’ choir based at the Benedictine abbey Santa Maria de Montserrat and maybe walk around the peaks. But all of this is way off the agenda, all my girlfriend wants to do is leave. This is making her worse, because she knows the only way down is the same way we came up.
I don’t think to this day I have ever mentioned to her the carpark.

Here we go again. I have woken up thinking about selling and the immortal words of a really great salesman I used to work with ringing in my ears “my name is #$@%& and I used to sell cars”! When it was all going wrong for him this was his coping mechanism. He’d sit in the corner play on his phone and mutter these words to anyone who would listen. Annoyingly enough it always worked. Each time he would bounce back, every month he would be in the top group of sales staff. This is a two hundred plus units a year retail salesman, but his paperwork was shocking! Not just bad but shocking. Customers would turn up to collect cars that hadn’t moved from where he had parked it after the test-drive. The service and valeting department would be constantly fighting with him as he tried to sneak his surprise jobs into their respective busy schedules. But what this guy could do was remember people. Most car salesmen remember cars. Honestly I have lost count the amount of times I have sold a car in the morning and the customer has popped back in the afternoon to ask a question. I’ve greeted said customer listened to the question, thought I will dodge this and retorted back “certainly sir and who was your salesman?” To be met by the finger being pointed right back at me “YOU”!
But my guy he could remember everything, wife’s name, dogs name. What they were having for dinner that evening and this ability to relate and schmooze with people was what was selling him the cars, but he had to work much harder to keep them in bed than he did to sell them.
There is a point I must go back to. The great valeter/groomer debate. In the UK the guys that wash your car are valeters, over her in New Zealand they are groomers. But groomers has a completely different connotation where I am from. To this day it still brings a smirk to my face as I join the dots in my mind, I will let you do the same.
All this thinking about salesman and car sales get me think about a few of the classic sales I have pulled off over the years. I remember one very fondly. One afternoon a mature lady came on to the forecourt and pretty much walked down one of the rows of cars, pointed at a gold coloured golf we had and said I’ll have that one! This in salesman vernacular is called catching a wallet. The customer makes a decision so quickly their wallet comes out so fast it nearly hits you. Some would argue that I have made a career out of these sorts of deals and I would put my hands up to say I have had my fair share of luck over the years. But for every gimme deal there are those that you have to really work for. So anyway, I have whisked this lovely lady into the office to do the paperwork.
At this time I am still relatively green to the world of sales, this lady is buying the car of that there is no doubt. But I have also not long done a training course that taught me the importance of the test-drive. So I virtually insist she drives the thing, its clear she’s not keen but I sell her the idea that I will drive down to an empty carpark and she can do a lap round there, all will be well. This is when I learned one of life’s lessons, if they don’t want to drive, fine, take the money. You can always mickey the paperwork later if your company demands test-drives. We kangarooed across said carpark at a greater rate of knots then I was comfortable with. Only managing to stop on the other side as I knocked it out of gear and yanked on the handbrake, the hedge was approaching much faster than I had a liking for. She on the other hand appeared quite satisfied with her efforts and I was only too glad to hear she didn’t need to drive it back to the showroom.
When the day came for her to collect her new car and she arrived with a younger man, who after all the paper work was completed drove the car away. I sold this lady a number of cars afterwards and always the same story, point to a car, do the paperwork come back in a week to collect. I’d learnt my lesson, no more test-drives. The really odd thing was it was always a different lad who arrived with her to do the driving. Oh and I never saw her driving a car again.

As I am sat here, writing my wittering’s I am watching my wife systematically dismantle the house, cleaning it within an inch of its life and put it all back together again. Mostly in the same order, but not entirely. I am not sure if this if for my benefit, some sort of cleaning demonstration. Or if this is boredom at its highest-level, but what I am doing is making myself look the busiest I can. All of a sudden I have a lot more very important emails to send and customers to speak to. I have already heard rumour of a requirement for me to vacuum and mop the floors again! It was four days ago I last did this, I know I wrote it in here and I’ve checked. I am worried there is some sort of national tidy home competition and the wife is going for gold.
She just announced she had a panic on as she thought she had run out of Mr Sheen but found another bottle at the back of the cupboard!
Fortunately the living area is now cleaner than it’s ever been in its life and she’s headed off to clean bedrooms. I am worried though, there is a look in her eye which normally means I have done something wrong. The sort of something wrong that all husbands do but have no idea what it is. The sort of something wrong that can result in a monumental argument and tears. All you know is at the end of the argument, is that it all your fault and you have been a bad husband; but what it is you have done or not done will remain a mystery. Pray for me, I think I am in trouble.

My little VW is coming along nicely, but I am not brave enough to build anymore right now so there may be a delay. The feather duster is out now!

Kitchen is in

Two weeks into this! I wonder what you have to have done to get a two week prison sentence. On that note, what happens to all those criminals on home detention, sporting those snazzy ankle bracelets? They are having it easy. The old judge sentencing home detention, will have to up their sentences. We are all doing porridge right now.

I am up and working, or at least trying to. There are no emails, banter or otherwise.
So I am going to do what I am doing best right at this moment and write one more email to all my clients and friends who have been enjoying my utterings. It’s time to launch my blogsite proper, it’s been up online for a little while but it’s taken me some time to get it looking and working right. It’s still not perfect but it will give me something to focus on in the coming weeks.
I need to thank all those that have had sneak preview and the feedback I have received. It’s still work in progress so please do all continue with your feedback and ideas. Big thank you to my little girly, who has sat long into the night sorting out my mess of an original website. I can’t take all the glory for this, sometimes with technology you need to reach out to someone younger than you to show you how it works.
So here it is; The Diary of an Isolated Salesman is born. What started as a few emails to my client base has turned into this. An all-consuming collection of my journey through lock-down, thoughts, ramblings and general tomfoolery. I hope you enjoy it. It is only existing for two purposes, one to keep me sane and give me a small purpose in these unusual times and two, to make you smile. I am not trying to write some award winning literary piece. Or make my fortune, although all contributions greatly received. All I want out of this, is for whoever reads this to smile and to share those smiles with their friends and family. Send a link of my blog to anyone you can think of who needs a smile, I hope it helps pass even a small part of the day with a grin.

Work can’t last for ever and despite a few promising leads to work with no one appears to be in a buying mode today. I tackle a bit more of my campervan build. It’s coming on nicely, but I don’t see it lasting eight hours even if a do try to limit myself to a few stages a day. It’s lovely to see it coming together and I love how the engine bay is looking.

Back of a bus

After lunch I have a little mission. A friend of mines boat is in the marina and he would just like me to check on it. I hope it doesn’t need anything more technical than that. Despite having lived pretty close to the water all my life, boats are a mystery to me. I have discovered in my life I am pretty good looking at the water but not so good on it. Anyway Lola gets the nod and off we trot. This boat is completely on the other side of the marina to me, so Lola is going to get an extra-long walk today and as a special treat the wife is home today. So we have a proper family outing.
Its glorious up here, the sun is beating down on us and life couldn’t be better. I do love to look at the boats, if I peep between the houses I can just about see the masts of the yachts from my deck. One day I will have a house with a proper water view, but I need to sell a few more motorhomes before that happens. So for now I will be happy where I am.
My mates boat appears to be floating the right way up and I send him a couple of pictures just to prove it. Only I can’t quite remember which is his, I have only been on it a couple of times; so I have to send him an arty shot of the whole pontoon. I must have got the right pontoon as he’s happy with the results.

Marina View

Form here we wander out to the top of the marina to look at the fishes. If you’re very lucky you can see allsorts in the water, but I like to see Stingrays. Today I am lucky, just as we turn the corner to walk alone the bank backing on to pontoon Z there is a beautiful and quite large ray just cruising along. He glides with us as we walk the full length of the pontoon towards the ferry terminal.

Stingray Stingray

Second weekend in and I am questioning; when does the absurd start to feel normal? Already I am noticing that my sleep pattern is affected. I am definitely drinking more. More worryingly I have started noticing things in my own home. Things we both do, but I have never before had much time to give it any thought.
Now I have loads of time and am noticing the oddest things. First off, we have OCD. I have decided the wife has got it worse than me but we both definitely have traits.

Example number one:

Cupboard steps

Here in our pantry cupboard we have a little set of shelves, I guess so you can see things better. Who even knew these little shelves were a thing? Where do you get them? And more worryingly, how much Almond essence do we need? I have never knowingly consumed said Almond essence but we have a lot of it in here.
My wife does have previous for these little shopping mishaps. She very rarely takes a list and likes to freestyle her way up and down every single aisle. This is how supermarkets want us all to shop as it inevitably ends up with stuff we don’t want and stuff we already have. Previously it was mint sauce that she used to procure at every opportunity. Honestly we had so much at one stage if word had got out to the farming community, the sheep would have been so nervous we wouldn’t have had one within a hundred miles of us.

Example 2:

Tin Can Parade

Another pantry shot with all the tins beautifully lined up and facing front. She could get a job stacking shelves anywhere, but seriously do we all do this or is it just us nutters? I am not immune, I have a beer fridge that I do take great pride in stocking up well and making sure all the labels face out. But this is different. Its glass fronted to start with, so everything is supposed to be on display and looking good. That and it’s my little bar. I like to have folk round for a game of pool and a beer, it needs to look good it adds to the pub atmosphere.

To stop myself looking in more cupboards I am going to start my LEGO® build.

15 Bags of Fun

So this is what you get out the box of a new LEGO® set, fifteen bags of wonder. It’s been best part of thirty years since I played with LEGO® and I am not afraid to admit I’m a little bit excited. I resist the temptation to tip all the bags out in a pile in the middle of the table and set about my task. Who said OCD?

Back of a Bus

About an hour later I have the engine in and the back of the bus taking shape. I am going to try and eke this out over a few days. Google tells me that it will take eight hours to build and there are one hundred and fourteen steps, so my stopping at step fourteen seems appropriate. I am pleased with my work and decided it’s the weekend and I should have a beer, sit in the sun and read for a while.

Ordered Fun

I break off my reading to make a start in dinner, I am craving another curry so before too much alcohol is consumed I make a start on my famous chicken curry. Back in the day my family were all in the hospitality business and at one time or another we all had pubs. My brother still has a pub; it’s a proper village pub with all the usual attributes of an English boozer. A real local’s pub, always a friendly welcome. Loads of pub teams and always something going on. This is my only gripe about New Zealand, you don’t quite get the pub scene. I am still looking but I have yet to walk into a pub over here and be able to instantly start up a conversation with whoever at the bar, or just get that instant relaxed homely atmosphere you find in a British pub. I will keep trying though.
Anyway the point I was making is that I can cook, I don’t do it so much now as I probably should. But the kitchen is not a mystery to me. My own pub, (which with hindsight was far too large for me to run) during the summer months would average over a hundred covers per service. And an ever popular meal on my menu was my curry, which I am trying to replicate now. Only like everyone else I guess I don’t have all the ingredients. I have no herbs, am a few spices short and no mango chutney. But it makes no matter, it will be a variation on a theme. I even knock up a few naan breads.

The wife eventually returns home about nine o’clock. She works twelve hour shifts but inevitably these are more like thirteen or fourteen hour shifts. Even in normally times I can count on one hand how often she gets away on time.
On that note, let’s spare a thought for all our health care professionals who are risking their own health and wellbeing to help others at this difficult time. Each day the wife goes to work and a great many other husbands, wives, sons, daughters, and partners just like her. Running the real risk of Covid-19 contact. Even outside of these unusual times, these guys put themselves on the line to help you. So please remember this next time you don’t think a loved one of yours is getting the care they deserve or you don’t like the cause of action that has been presented to you. You are welcome to question the pathway you have been offered but when you resort to abuse and violence, all sympathy to your situation is removed. The stories I have to listen to will never be retold, but if you’re the one spouting abuse or swinging punches at one of these tremendous health care professionals, its time you took a long hard look at yourself.

Another day in paradise. Its Sunday, the wife has a well-deserved day off and the clocks have gone back. So we all have an extra hour today to fill. The boss is filling it by sleeping so as I have been told I have to leave my computer alone today, I will take the opportunity to write a little of my nonsense now before she gets up.
Generally speaking I am an early riser. So utilising my time wisely I have managed to get the floorpan of my little dub done, even done a bit of tiling! I am miffed with myself though. I stuffed up putting the number plate sticker on. Its squint and I know I will always notice this.

VW Floorpan

I am also in a silly mood and am remembering some of the other places we went in Spain. Peñíscola! This wasn’t a planned trip, not that too much of our travels were. But when a child like me is driving along and spots a sign that could be a little bit rude we are off to take a look.
Peñíscola is a coastal town in eastern Spain. It’s known for beaches like Pebret and Norte, and its historic old town. It also has its own 13th-century Castle, Peñíscola Castle. I have to take a look I have already in my mind’s eye decided what it should look like.
Sadly the castle is not how I imagined it, it is fascinating though. It has a massive Templar Knights influence and history. The current form of the castle is essentially that developed by the Knights Templar, who planned to develop a kingdom centred on Peñíscola and best of all the basic Templar core of the castle remains intact. So much so Peñiscola became Meereen, the northernmost and greatest of the three great city-states of Slaver’s Bay in the recent Game of Thrones series.

Peñíscola Castle

Peñíscola Castle

Despite being home alone, I am still work orientated. I am up dressed and ready for action, when it dawns on me there is no action. Despite that I still go about checking my emails, it’s a bit like a lonely old man walking out to check his post box every morning; only to discover a few leaflets. Today I truly am an Isolated Salesman.

We have another update from our CEO today, so that at least for now this gives me a little purpose. The message is clear, it a tough time for the business globally not just New Zealand. There are plenty of other staffs in the same situation or worse than myself. It’s bleak but it is where we are. He does try to put a bit of a spin on the other revenue forms we are exploring and there is certainly hope there, at least for the short term. So buoyed by this speech, I am about to turn myself into a domestic god! My darling wife has left me a less than subtle note to vacuum and mop the floors. Honestly you would think I spend my days on my arse writing this and playing PlayStation!

Floors suitably wet, Lola gets another late morning walk. It’s her little paws that make most of the mess, so she can keep out for an hour while it dries.
Here’s a top tip for all you blokes reading this; when you have done the job you have been detailed to do, send the misses a picture. It’s a double whammy, not alone will you get the plaudits it will also wind her up nicely. As I am sending her this very picture, I am already hearing her telling her mates. “Will you look at this, he washes the floors and I get a picture, I’ll start sending him a picture off all the jobs I do around the house that he thinks the fairies do!”  It tickles me every time and the best bit, they never say anything. You might get an “oh you’ve done the floors” or something like that. But never is the other conversation mentioned.