Bleak House

I write as it blows a gale with driving rain outside my office window. There is no-one in the beer garden smoking and all the parasols have been lowered to stop the Mary Poppins effect. Yes this summer has been the lousiest since records began - its official. I think I'll go and light the fire - on this inclement November afternoon - thats if the logs are n't too damp. Moan, groan.

Heaven & Earth

Under the influence of Stowford Press this cirrus cloud formation looked rather pleasant on Sunday evening. I am sure a cloud boffin in the pub will advise me whether this was a cirrostratus or a cirrocumulus or maybe I am the cloud boffin for even being able to remember a cirrus cloud formation when I see one. Then again it could be an altostratus. That was always the difficulty studying clouds at school.

It took 98mm of rainfall on Friday to wash away most of the horseshit left on the drive last Sunday by the visiting horses who were having their mug shots taken by Johnny the Hat. Soon the 'great flood of 2007' will be upon us here in Maidenhead (but not in Moneyrow Green I forecast)

Long term car park to front

This one was dumped in front of the gate on Friday and collected on Sunday. I enquired of the driver whether he'd had a pleasant weekend break to which he replied 'Sorry!' claiming he had lost all track of time and was convinced it was Saturday morning. The occurrence of dumped cars for two to three days is quite common and leads me to summise that there may be a 'Holyport Triangle' phenomenon similar to the one observed in Bermuda but on a much smaller scale and on land of course. As well as bewildered individuals collecting their dumped vehicles after several days I often observe cars being dumped at the White Hart and the occupants wandering 'trance-like' with luggage and push chairs towards to the neighbours. I often try to save them from their appointment with the 4th dimension by offering them food, drink and shelter but always to no avail. By the morning the cars with their occupants have usually gone. Oddly, I never see them leave!

Large car park to rear 5

Are these people in love with their cars?

The Warden

Here is the smoking warden aka Byawn Bore's best friend, sitting drinking a pint of water with all his friends. Thanks to keen-eyed Adamski for capturing the council official in action.

Limestone Cowboy

Four tons of limestone gravel dust arrived today and was dumped at the front of the pub. With the help of Devon, my erstwhile assistant, we set about shovelling and raking the lot onto the petanque terrain. Anyone performing maintenance or construction work at the White Hart is guaranteed an audience of experts, 'how much?'s, 'what you wanna do's, 'I'd have done's, 'Did you hire that?'s 'I've got one of those you could have had's, all round mockers and nae'er do wells. Any notion of physical assistance completely out of the question.

Being a reasonably thick-skinned publican (getting thicker by the day I might add) we persevered and completed the task in admirable fashion. I now have a petanque surface to be proud of. Comedy moment of the day was when Peter Crouch exchanged the jack with a toilet ball from the urinal. This was duly thrown at the start of a game and smashed to pieces on impact. I hope they both washed their hands.

1001 Nights

According to THE spreadsheet, the evening of July 18th 2007 will be number 1001 encarcerated in the White Hart. We will not be dining out with the young Caliph and his wicked advisors instead its likely to be business as usual - although anything can happen in the strange world of licensed retailing.

Diametrically opposed

There are some people in life whom I am unable to communicate with in a charming and effective fashion as I do with most of my friends, associates, employees, suppliers and customers. I liken this phenomenon to the earthlings attempting to communicate with the spaceship in 'Close Encounters' via a giant keyboard. Conversations with these people never seem to get started successfully or painfully bump along the bottom until I have to make my excuses or just walk away after yet another painful pregnant pause. My thoughts on the personalities of these characters are very close to my thoughts on the incredible media achievements of Paris Hilton or the creative genius of that cheeky songster Robbie Williams. It must be me then.

Large car park to rear 4

Large car park to rear 3

Help the trapped disabled

Large car park to rear 2

Large car park to rear

Wimbledon backlog

Thanks to Rusty Barmaid for this one as the Wimbledon backlog threatens to roll into week three. Life is just not the same without the theme tune from Ready, Steady, Cook floating across the White Hart airwaves at 4.30pm on a sleepy mid-week afternoon.

Civil liberties & the warden

Although Sunday afternoon was very busy - even I had to serve for a while - my view was that it would be like the first day back at school after the summer holidays for some people. Short -lived curiosity caused by potential dramas surrounding the 'change' followed rapidly by anti-climax as mountain turned into molehill.

The first real test of the smoking ban would be the early Monday evening after-work session. There is only so much civil liberty clap trap a humble publican can resist absorbing before taking French leave. In my absence I was advised that the inconspicuous warden had been spotted by all the customers from a hundred paces and one had snapped him on camera. Maybe it was sitting alone, dressed in a civic suit drinking a pint of tap water which gave him away.

The weather has been relentlessly grim all week and trade has been sluggish. However, the magnificent Framley Examiner has been updated and will instantly raise the spirits. Worryingly similar to the Maidenhead Advertiser www.framleyexaminer.com/pages/clas008.html

The auspicious damp squib

Listening to the radio in my last minute drive to the parasol shop the old sage Michael Parkinson was discussing the ban on smoking with the buxom wench Eve Pollard. On cue into the next jazz track he described it as an auspicious day. Not certain that he had used the right adjective and from my experience of the hysteria surrounding the millenium bug in 1999 and the new licensing laws in 2005 my position was closer to that of a 'damp squib'. On the day only two individuals absent mindedly lit up and were rapidly escorted from the premises otherwise a remarkably fatalistic non-event did not take place. A big cheese from the brewery came round in the afternoon to interview staff and customers and fill in questionnaires. The raw data will be fed into the Cray at Bury St Edmunds for future anal ysis.

Having to look up auspicious I also looked up squib which is a small firework that makes a hissing noise when lit. Any squibs lit on smoking ban day would have been damp. I rest my case.

It's all in the runes

As mentioned previously, flaming June has been not so flaming however, the HMS White Hart has turned in an outstanding set of numbers for the month mainly thanks to the efforts of the Ridgeback in the kitchen. In the last week of the smoking raj it rained every day and trade was moderate. This was all set against a backdrop of an unelected new Prime Minister, Pussy Tim going out in the second round, half of Yorkshire under three feet of water, Midnight Cowboy suffering a heart attack (get well soon), bomb scares in London, crazed Iranian doctors driving a flaming jeep into the main entrance of Glasgow airport and Princes William and Harry groovin on down at Wembley. Never a dull a moment.