Tag: bakery

On The Road Again

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“See it. Say it. Sorted” says a message on the loud speaker after telling passengers to report anything suspicious. Don’t get me wrong there have been situations involving public transport in the past but the constant need to remind people of the fear they should be in, the potential that there could always be something to look out for, makes me far uneasier than any possible – I’m assuming terrorist – danger does.

I just missed my mouth slightly and spilt beer on my face mask. We can add that to the drawbacks list. I’ve never quite understood why when drinking alcohol is illegal in outdoor public places, on buses, even as a passenger in cars apparently; it is perfectly fine to drink on a train. I can only assume it has something to do with them being able to sell alcohol themselves and it being impossible to regulate train beer from carry on beer. Maybe it’s just a throwback to dining carts. I’m not complaining. Few countries in the world seem to allow such things and I see it as a genuine positive of what is already probably my favourite form of transport. I’ll take a bus if I have to, I’ll avoid the train if it’s too expensive and I’ll take the plane if it makes more practical sense but there’s still something I enjoy about a train that I’m yet to put my finger on entirely. Comfortable, fast, easy, goes through scenic areas. Maybe I should go on one of those long train journeys like the Trans-Siberian or across America, the Andes, Australia and anywhere else that begins with ‘A’.

Despite spending the last few months delivering bread and working in a bakery and pizza shop I seem a little more nervous about this virus though. The little Northumberland seaside village and the Scottish countryside of my parents feels like a little bubble I’ve stepped out of. I’ve gone south where bad things happen. I’m now in the real world. A world with dangers.

I can still only smell beer. This is going to make me paranoid. Is it me, do I stink of beer or is it simply a drop on my mask leading to a false reading. I’m not sure if I can spend the next twelve hours breathing beer fumes.

I’m on the move again then. Off to Greece. I’ve mentioned it previously but I doubt anyone reads every post every day so this is me informing you all I’m off to Greece. I had a short break in Dublin over Christmas but it does feel like I’ve not been abroad for a year now. This virus really has made us change our way of existing. I’m a little nervous actually and I’m curious how I’ll feel about it. I have a habit of wishing for the sedentary life when I travel a little too much and the travelling life when I’m in one spot for too long. Considering it has been a long time since Christmas and an even longer time since my last adventure, the wishing became a slight insanity.

It can be hard to leave though. We become comfortable and after all these years I do wonder if maybe I am getting a little old for all this. Ten years ago I did meet people in their thirties just starting out so perhaps age has little to do with it. We just experience things in a different way. I do find it harder to leave my parents each time though, especially now in this present virus related fear period. I don’t give a shit about potentially suspicious packages, I give a shit about my loved ones coming into contact with a deadly virus. Leaving them at the train station questioning whether it will be the last time I’ll see them but knowing I have to leave regardless. The truth is, life goes on. The whole world ground to a halt for a few months once already and now we just have to get on with it. It is easy to blame the economy and capitalism but it’s human nature. We can’t stand still. Sometimes it’s not always easy though.

A Piece For Posterity

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When all this is done I’ll probably print these out for myself and save them somewhere. I generally don’t read much of what I’ve written after reading them but one day will sit down and remind myself of how my mind has been thinking this year. I have tried not to just talk about myself and what I’m up to. I’ve tried also not to write too much about politics or whats going on in the world. I thought writing about football could be fun but thought better of doing it here too often. What is interesting about writing everyday though is not necessarily seeing what interests you on a daily basis but seeing what the mind gets caught up on for a period of time.

When Covid-19 started to become a thing I could barely think of anything else to write about for weeks. When our government has been at it’s worst and most corrupt they will be my focus for a week or so. I’ve stopped writing about these people though because their incessant self-serving bullshit provides something new on a daily basis. I’m just bored of being outraged about them, nothing of consequence happens and the following day there’s another scandal that gets brushed under the carpet and forgotten about. Currently I’m perhaps a little too focused on the fact I’m having a little change in my own life.

I mention all this because when I do look back on this one day in the future, I would like to remind myself of today. I moved out. Yesterday I mentioned my hoarding. Today I really discovered that filth can build up in ten months in some hidden places if you’re not regularly cleaning things. I would generally keep on top of things but rarely did I give much a deep clean. Even the fridge was disgusting and genuinely I didn’t even recognise anything until I emptied it and starting cleaning. We simply don’t see things until they’re pointed out, then they become impossible not to see. Why too do we only give flats a good clean when we’re leaving and not able to appreciate living in the cleanliness.

It has been a long day then. I’m back now at my parents for a week as I sort out a few things before heading off. It’ll probably end up being quite busy week here too but a different busy. And I should probably add that I’m also giving this quite uninteresting update because I want to remember the day I was exhausted and discovered late at night just before writing this, having a bath and going to bed, that I accidentally have one of the delivery van keys and I may have to drive over an hour to get it to them. How many times do we leave somewhere or think we’ve finished something and somehow we find ourselves back in it. Even if they do find a spare, which is why it is still ‘may have to’ drive and not definitely drive, I’ll still have to go down tomorrow. This I can live with. It will ruin my first actual day off in months but that is infinitely more tolerable than going off now when I’m struggling to keep my eyes open and can only think of bed. How I love my bed.

A Night In The Life Of Lockdown Pizzas

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Kick off is at five and I can see people outside at the door trying to get in. I used to have it closed but unlocked in the half hour before I began and as I did my prep but it soon became evident that people were keen on disturbing me in search of cake, pies and bread. As I’m more concerned with wanting to do my prep than help them not wait half an hour, the door is now locked. I avoid their pleading, desperate and starved eyes. I chop tomatoes. I realise everything else is still plentiful from last night. Pizza base count – only twenty. It’s Wednesday, twenty is probably enough. Prep done. Time to make eye contact and make the shrugged sorry shoulder gesture, spin my hand with pointed finger to signify the turning of something – in this instance time – and hold up five fingers for five o’clock. I wonder if they’ll come back in five minutes instead.

First person through the door decides to make a bad joke about getting a receipt just to check I didn’t put £300 through instead of £3 before waiting uncomfortably for the receipt. I decide not to put her out of her misery and tell her there’s a £45 contactless limit. It’s not because shes distrustful she wants me to know as she laughs nervously. I realised I haven’t cut any mushrooms and don’t have many pizza bases pre-passatered, perhaps starring at hungry customers trapped outside was not the best use of my time. I’m starting to feel a little heartburn from the sliver of walnut cake I just had, working in a bakery is not good for my health. First pizza takeaway sale and it’s two double cheeseburgers. I was vegan once.

My mate has just turned up with some official Lockdown Pizzas merchandise. It’s only taken four months and we close in less than three weeks but I’m now proudly sporting a red T-shirt with Lockdown Pizzas in black on the back and a black hoody with the same on the back but in red. They’ve put a space in Lock down but at least it’s spelt right. This might not be a co-operative or upholding any of the ideals I like to still believe I hold but it’s always good to be sporting the red and black. The fact these colours hide most of the likely ingredients I’ll cover myself in is simply a bonus.

…

That didn’t quite go to plan. I was hoping to have time to write a quick paragraph of each hour but the night turned out pretty busy and as it’s just me heroically working away, I barely got a chance to think let alone write anything. I’m sure there were all sorts of witty observations all throughout the night but they’re now lost in the ether of nothingness and non-existence. Unless time isn’t linear of course which would mean they’re happening now and always, both of which concepts wouldn’t exist either surely. I digress.

I messed up two orders tonight. One I realised I had done so as I put the pizzas in the boxes, vocalising my realisation as it came to me with an “Oh fuck” which was followed by me looking at the man and his asking quite intuitively whether I had forgotten the chips. He was fine about it, he could see how busy I was. The other time was right at the end I was probably about fifteen minutes late but they were fine about it too as they could also see how busy I was. People can be alright sometimes. It’s quite refreshing for this not to be a piece complaining about or making fun of customers as would be expected. Coincidentally with tonight being a night I attempted a running commentary, we actually sold out for the first time. Usually I have loads of bases in reserve but a mixture of me being slow to remind the guy in the bakery who makes them and him being slow to make them meant tonight was a special night. Amusingly the only person I had to turn away though was the actual guy who makes the bases as he thought he would pop in for one on his break. He says he’ll make one hundred for me tomorrow.

We have less than three weeks left and it will be the end of this little experiment. I’m alway keen on trying new things and now that I have a tshirt, hoody and scooter – which was only ever used a handful of times – I’ll probably have to come back next year and do it again. Saying that, this holiday I’m planning can’t come soon enough. There will be a lot of sleeping.

One Moment, Four Eyes

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There is a saying out there in the ether that goes along the lines of ‘no two people experience a moment the same way’. At about ten o’clock this morning I scribbled down ‘narrative confirming events & narratives to mould events’. Unfortunately the precise meaning of that seems to have slipped my mind in the time between but it was undoubtedly wise in one way or another. At this time I had just finished delivering bread having got up to do so about seven hours earlier and after three hours sleep having finished making pizzas late the night before. When people sleep this little, and what appears to be quite regularly these days, they have a habit of being a little grumpy and irrational. This morning was one of those days.

I can’t remember exactly what I meant but I think it had something to do with one of the people I was delivering to asking the annoying “Have you done this?” Have you done that?” despite the fact I always do this and that, and haven’t not once. I gave a pretty straight “Yes, no and I will” but really I wanted to let her know I didn’t appreciate her accusing me of not knowing how to do my relatively easy and straightforward job. Had I not been so tired and grumpy I suspect I wouldn’t have even noticed it as an issue but the mind can play tricks on you when it’s stretched.

This then was one version of an experience. Later as I drove away I mumbled to myself how she was rude and probably an idiot. This is most likely unfair and I suspect this is the case because I attempted to look at it from another perspective. Namely, hers. I remember when I was attempting to make a little sense of the world in my twenties I discovered the concept of compassion. To be able to experience compassion, one technique is to put yourself in the other persons position and view the event through their eyes. Maybe this is giving her an excuse and she was just being rude but perhaps there was a reason she was being so specific and direct with these questions. It is possible the other drivers haven’t always done these things requested but there is every chance she has been told by her boss to make sure of this and that, and she is stressing them to me because she knows she’ll get grief if they’re not done. Whether this is simply me giving her an excuse and letting her off I will never know. Also, she may have not even been that rude and I was just overreacting in my mind. Really though I don’t need to know because it doesn’t matter. The moment I thought that this may be a reason for her attitude my own anger towards her dissipated and I felt what can only be described as compassion. I had let go and the chain of negative emotions had been broken.

This was one moment and those were two ways to experience it. How narratives come into it is arguably less clear but most likely had something to do with allowing the idea that everyone and everything was out to annoy me. This shaped how I felt the situation unfolded and how I viewed it. It could be a good idea to write down a few notes alongside the main note for understanding purposes but one step at a time. I’ve been writing this blog so long and I can count the amount of times I’ve written notes like that on one hand. Still, there was something in there worth writing about I’m sure. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and try to spot a more suitable example for next time.

To Wash Or To Dream

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I spoke the other day about being present when drinking your coffee or smoking your cigarette. Not only does it allow you to enjoy it more but the act of being present and the resulting benefits to body and mind are invaluable. Today I spent eight hours cleaning bread baskets. It’s not an overly taxing job as there’s a machine you put them in that does all the hard work but without doubt it is monotonous and you spend most of the day being painfully aware of the enormous pile that never seems to get any smaller. In times of monotony we have a habit, or at least I have a habit, of dreaming of adventures in foreign lands, things I would like to incorporate into my life or simply what I fancy eating for my dinner. Today was no different and while some may argue these are great chances to have a really good think about stuff, and there are credible arguments to suggest there is truth in that, it doesn’t allow for the exercise of being present in the moment if you’re living in fantasy land.

Buddhist monks have written, I know because I have seen it, that we should put as much attention into the most menial of tasks as we do the most important of tasks. If we are capable of this, when we really need to focus and be present for something, we are far more practised and it is far easier. That seems to make sense as it can be hard to switch things on and off. On top of that if we are living in fantasy land, or making plans as it’s commonly known, then we’re as far from being present as possible. That of course may not be the aim of life but it’s not a bad thing to try and incorporate a little.

But as I said fantasising can be fun and let’s be honest imagining you’ll be sailing in the sun of Greece soon or sitting on a Costa Rican beach probably trump being stuck away in the north-east of England in the corner of a bakery getting wet monotonously. It would be nice going to Costa Rica though, I’ve heard a great deal about it and it seems like a good place for me to rediscover my love of travel. Plans this year have been somewhat difficult with all these virus shenanigans. In someways it’s been good to break the habit of just disappearing on a foreign adventure the moment I fancy a change from whatever the norm is and knowing planning is pointless, has made me do far less of it which allows me to step out of my head a little more often. Is that a win, just maybe. Did it prevent me dreaming instead of meditatively focusing on each basket, well no of course it didn’t I’m not a Buddhist monk. Alas, one more time I become aware I am but a simple and fallible human.

The Work Life Balance

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It’s a modern take on an age old struggle. How much are we capable of experiencing life and can we do this with the perfect amount of work. As is simple called, the work life balance. Although I’m sure I came across this before, my first real memory of being told I was about to experience a thing called a work life balance came when I was an English teacher in Athens. Teachers, like nurses, when passionate about their job have to give up far more of their time than the work manual suggests. There are people who like certain subjects and teach, and their are teachers who teach certain subjects. There’s a bit of a lazy cliche or moment of romanticism in there, the ideal of the passionate teacher, but I have experienced people who were born for the job. I recognised this because while I love teaching, that style wasn’t for me. While I needed work; I found myself with perhaps twenty-five hours a week spread evenly over six days. Throw in another ten hours for the planning and marking, more like three, and I should have had plenty of free time but somehow I didn’t. A morning class and then a few evening classes manages to take over your life. My work life balance was nothing more than an abstract concept.

Part of the training in the first week of term was on finding the perfect work life balance and what followed was a school run with what appeared to be the express intention of dismantling everything they had recommended. I was exhausted, I liked my students generally, but not the school and subsequently experienced Athens in a way that made leaving easy. Now I am experiencing a similar battle with this work life balance and am back to finding the whole concept bizarre. I’m working a lot and I’m exhausted but what I’ve realised is that what is ridiculous about the idea is that it creates a divide between the two realms of work and life. I have had some awful jobs over the years but people are capable of finding jobs they enjoy, they become part of their life. It doesn’t have to be the job itself, it could be the people you work with or even be your own business that you put your soul into. I see people working seven days a week and this is their life it’s not work anymore. They clearly don’t have a balance in the sense that would be idealised but they also clearly do have one for them. It would be too obvious to say that we just need to find something that suits us but it feels more likely that we evolve into or adapt to what becomes normal, we embrace that particular balance more than designing it to what we already know is good for us. I also know that’s entirely my perspective because I say that without a clue what would be something to aim for but there will be people out there who understand their needs enough. For me I just quite enjoy experiencing different versions of work life existence. I won’t be doing this forever and I’m sure I’ll stumble onto something one day. In the meantime I’ll just continue enjoying seeing the world through another persons eyes.

A Fine Pinnacle Of Existence

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Two Magnum ice creams and a choux bun, I’m not doing very well in my attempts at cutting down on sugar. I work in a bakery and make pizzas which means I’m surrounded by food that isn’t going to do my health a lot of good. Without doubt I’ll make myself a pizza at one point and probably one of the burgers we sell too. Throw in the little cakes or chocolate slices that are just lying around crying out to be eaten and my time in this job is becoming bad for my health. It doesn’t help when I then go to the supermarket, something takes over my mind and I start dreaming of cream cakes. Out of nowhere I somehow manage to rationalise with myself why I might as well buy it because of whatever genius idea I come up with at the time. And it is genius, or at least it appears to be. Perhaps more of a flawed genius then.

It is remarkable how despite the best of intentions, upon entering somewhere that contains tasty and unhealthy food, we immediately give in to our base desires. Life is certainly easier that way but I doubt it’s better. I think I’m not alone in this. In fact I know I’m not. But then I say that with everything. No matter what you’re experiencing someone else has or is also experiencing it. When it comes to giving in to our desires, well society is based upon that. The foundations of our current existence are built upon how easily we will give in to our wants. Our needs are important but there’s nothing like an ice cream to distract us from whatever unpleasant necessity that keeps on prodding us.

The strange thing is I have the discipline to write this each day but not to resist the chocolate eclairs. I lack the discipline to resist something that I have a slight allergic reaction to and which makes me slightly puffy and pink. Once more my own fallibility slaps me in my little puffy face and I just carry on. Beyond not eating the cream, what can I do. If I’m going to carry on doing it why beat myself up about it. But I do, because I’m human. It’s really hard being human, it seems to just be one series of cockups after another. Yet we survive, despite the odds we’re adaptable. I’ll eat the ice cream but then make sure I eat plenty of green vegetables. It balances out and I reach the level of fine. It really is the pinnacle of existence in these strange times.

A Heroes Welcome

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As I drove through the small village near my home at about five minutes past eight this evening I noticed people had lined the street and started clapping as I approached. It’s good to have my existence celebrated finally. The strange thing is that having stopped their 8pm clap for carers session, some actually clapped in my direction as I drove by. I was in a delivery van so I wonder if they saw me as some kind of hero putting my life on the line to deliver them their bread. Still, I just drove on. I did contemplate hooting the horn as I drove through but I didn’t want to play along with whatever it is they’re doing. To be completely honest, I think the whole things a charade and it’s stupid. Don’t get me wrong I’m sure there are some exhausted and not to mention ill nurses out there and I appreciate and respect them for doing what their doing, there’s just something empty about this whole clapping show. Each Thursday at 8pm people line the streets, clap and bang pots. It’s a lovely gesture but I suspect for many it’s hollow.

It’s worth pointing out that were I live in both Northumberland and the Scottish Borders, Tory MPs were voted in to power recently. Perhaps these people banging pots could instead just not vote for them next time. Who gives a shit about what you think if you clap your hands and then vote for the very people who actively weaken those you’re clapping for. The mind numbing hypocrisy just seems lost and maybe that’s the worst part. I want to hang a banner from my window highlighting this but I’m concerned the attention it might draw to the bakery below me may not be ideal. I just want to slap everyone and point out that they’re idiots. There’s too many idiots.

People talk about ten years of Tory government and their ideological attacks on the NHS as being the reason for it’s current struggles but that’s not accurate. Either people have short memories or they’re just playing party politics. While I would trust Jeremy Corbyn with the NHS, I would be curious to know people’s opinions on Tony Blair’s version of a Labour Government. But really we can go back as far as Thatcher and the first real inroads of a neoliberal movement to destroy something that has helped so many. In truth actually we could go all the way back to Nye Bevan and the Tory government he had to fight against to establish the NHS we all love and cherish now. You see, it’s not just ten years of Tory austerity. Or forty years of neoliberalism. These bastards have had it in for free health care since the very beginning. Don’t believe their lies. And if you vote for them, save your breath, and save your effort each Thursday night. If you truly cared for the carers you wouldn’t be voting for that self-serving mob. It’s not bloody hard to understand.

The Inquisitive Child

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It would be appealing in the moment to say an important lesson had been learnt today. In a way one was but perhaps not the obvious and straightforward one. You see, I did something silly. Although that’s one way of looking at it. The other is that today I discovered something new which makes it a great move all round. If you’ve been following this blog you’ll have heard me refer to all sorts of different jobs I do, one minute I’m working in a bakery, the next I’m renovating a house, and then I’m making pizzas; I may have mentioned others but I forget, anyway the point is that yesterday while stripping wallpaper in the flat next door I discovered a CD-ROM. For younger folk this is a something that was commonly used in a previous decade to put files on computers before we all got fast internet. It turns out putting random CDs into computers is not necessarily the best idea. My laptop stopped working and then wouldn’t load up properly. The lesson learnt then would be not to put random CDs into computers. It’s a bit like telling a curious child not to taste everything they see just incase it has a new exciting flavour.

In moments like this though I prefer to focus on the favourable positive elements of a story and the lessons learnt. Did I learn never to put random CDs into my laptop again? Well in a way yes, but seeing as I’m typing this now there must have been a happy ending. You see I managed to open up the back of my laptop, take out the drive and manually remove the CD. My computer then loaded up perfectly and seemingly all is back to normal. But it’s not normal because I have the added satisfaction of fixing a problem and of learning something new. Is that the lesson learnt? Well again kind of but that’s hardly a lesson in the metaphorical sense. My favourite type. So I learnt not to taste random things I find, but I didn’t really because I’ll probably taste them again. And that’s what’s important. The inquisitive mind should never be caged. Why would you not want to know what was hidden inside something random you find. I’ve found some cool stuff in my life. Maybe it’s a sign I lack contentment but that urge to discover that takes me on adventures to foreign lands also seems to make me see what’s on random CDs I find under old carpets. To recognise there is discovery in every little thing. Maybe understanding that leads to more contentment in a way. Who knows, except time. Time knows everything.

Forever the child tasting new discoveries. I hope that never changes.

Lockdown Pizzas

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Drum roll please…now is the time to reveal what it was that got me all worked up the other day. Edge of your seat stuff I’m sure, it would be a surprise had you not already read the title. Yes myself and a couple of friends are selling takeaway pizzas. Let’s be honest there’s nothing like a good crisis to make a little cash. They own a bakery and as they’re still open delivering bread we thought we may as well make a few pizzas as a side project and see how it goes. It’s great though because they already understand bread so we have a really nice thin sourdough base and they have proper stone ovens so they’re stonebaked too. Genuinely they’re really nice. I’m the creative director / pizzas artist. There are no takeaways open at all in the area and people seem reasonably enthused by the prospect of being able to alleviate the tedium of this current social experiment with the idea of comfort food. On top of that we will use some of the money we manage to raise and either donate it to the NHS or if there are any local families who have been affected by the virus it would be a good thing to try and help them if possible, even just a weeks food shop. Like everything it’s a lets see how it evolves thing as clearly all is currently unknown.

But yes there was the stress. I was in a terrible fettle on Wednesday. The realisation of what we were doing all came to me at once and the intensity of the energy was just too much. I can’t remember exactly what I said in the piece on Wednesday but I think towards the end I said something about channeling the energy and even if I didn’t I have had the most remarkable two days since. Whenever I found the energy building up I detached myself from it for long enough to stop it being overwhelming, but more importantly I consciously managed to use it to focus on whatever task I needed to do. This means I have been running around like a mad man for two days but have done it in a focused controlled way which was an interesting experience for such an idle man ordinarily.

Today was ridiculous, first we found out the pizza boxes weren’t going to arrive which would make selling pizzas pretty difficult. The show must go on though so we can up with some solutions but in the end managed to buy some off a man in a van in a layby and then it turned out the vegetable order hadn’t gone through so we weren’t going to have any veggies or cheese for the pizzas. We managed to behave like toilet roll fanatics in the local co-op and emptied shelves. Ultimately both these situations would have destroyed me on Wednesday but today I managed to use the power they created for focus and drive. What a feeling. Maybe this is what people do.

Anyway I’m exhausted and I’ve got to be up in the early hours again to deliver bread tomorrow. It is simply non-stop at the moment. So as the show must go on, it may be wise to draw the curtain on this piece for today. Need to conserve my energy for another evening of pizza making after all.