Saturday 22 September 2012

And when you wake up it's a new mornin'

www.thelittleorchardcompany.co.uk

Let’s begin with a little nostalgia shall we? In 1978, when “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty was released, I was only 12 years old. It seems only yesterday that I was sitting in my friend, Bethan’s living room, listening to the Rafferty album and rocking away on her rocking chair, wishing that we had such a wonderfully comfortable thing at my house. There was no talking. Just rocking, listening to the music and silently praying that her older brother wouldn’t catch us playing his LPs.


Well, that song has had a lasting influence on my life! As the apple pressing season gets into full swing this year, I can’t help but reflect on my blog from last year and my pre-cider-making life. There’s no doubt about it, in many ways my corporate life was great! I mostly worked with lovely people; I was a freelancer and did something different every 6 months so I was rarely bored; my work paid the bills and allowed me to buy fancy things and take nice holidays. But, the one thing that let it all down was commuting to London every day. 
My tea towel cupboard!
I’m a real home girl. I love my partner (don’t tell him though, otherwise he’ll get ahead of himself), and my house and my books and, in particular, my tea towel cupboard (but that’s another story… what? They’re all pressed into neat squares that smell of clean linen – what’s not to like???). 
And I hate staying in hotel rooms even for one night (also another story… has someone recently died in the hotel room bed? Just exactly how many other-people-mites am I breathing in from that pillow? Who’s bottom was on this loo seat yesterday? Why do people like hotels? Beats me!). All of which only leaves one option. Commuting. Misery me! The train arrives at London Marylebone and I walk down to Baker Street to get the Tube over to the other side of the city. Cue Gerry inside my head…


Windin' your way down on Baker Street
Light in your head and dead on your feet


That’s about the size of it, having gotten out of bed at 5.30 to make it to work on time.

Another year and then you'll be happy
Just one more year and then you'll be happy

I knew what I wanted. Knew where I was going to. Knew I had to work really hard to get together enough money to get to where I wanted to be. Surely just one more year!?

He's got this dream about buyin' some land

Did I ever! Buy land. Plant trees. Start cidery. Buy land. Plant trees. Start cidery. Buy land. Plant trees. Start cidery. You get the picture; I won’t go on.

When I speak to people now, and tell them my orchard story, they often tell me how lucky I am. NO! As my other half frequently says to me, “The harder I work, the luckier I get”. So true. Well, OK, maybe there was a little luck involved along the way, but most of it was and still is hard work!
Having finally decided that I could continue with the “just one more year” refrain for the rest of my days, I stopped commuting, persuaded Tony to help me buy that land, plant those trees and set up the cidery.

Sittin' on the orchard gate

And when you wake up it's a new mornin'
The sun is shinin' it's a new morning
You're goin'
You're goin' home.

You see what I did there? New, shiny life = happy verse in the Gerry song? Excellent! Suffice to say that although I’ve put fancy clothes and posh holidays behind me, I’m feeling a little better than I did this time last year. Probably because I’ve cajoled Tony into doing the hard labour while I do the marketing ;-)

A little knitting in my rocking chair
Just for the record, I’d told Tony the Gerry Rafferty story so many times that, some years ago, he finally bought me a rocking chair (to shut me up), which is where I’m now sitting, writing my blog (and intermittently doing some knitting, drinking tea, surfing the Net etc.). Cool bananas!


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