St Jude's Day

Nobody in England had heard of St Jude's Day until a few days ago when the forecasters delightedly told us that today, the Storm Day is also the day of Lost Causes. I'm paying more attention to saints and holy days, particularly as this was the first time I remember weather warnings resulting in preemptive action. The storm that blew in on schedule struck down the morning rush hour.
I remained at home with my coffee van listening to the silence being broken by the wind. No trains ran. First they said 8am, then 9am and then 11am. The train lines were blocked by trees and so it became a 'working from home' day.
The storm eventually blew away, leaving a path of broken trees and broken power lines. "It could've been worse", said the Media, reporting the deaths of five people, the unlucky ones. The storm is continuing it's path of destruction, losing energy along the way, but still killing where it can.
It's been a strange day with people remaining indoors, few cars moving on the roads. I'd been looking at solar technology, but now I wonder now how I can harness wind power.

Today I've been reading about "Relational Aggression" after reading an article on sexist retro vintage advertising, which made me reflect on the responsibility of women in patriarchy. This is a hard subject to raise in Public. It's easier to blame men for sexism, but who has examined the role of women in this power structure? A Google search for articles on "relational" or "social" aggression, showed there is very little research on this subject. Strange, if you also look up workplace bullying, there is a lot of feedback online first hand and anecdotal about a pattern and style adopted by female managers who use emotional bullying techniques to maintain power.

Strangely, one or two articles claimed that the "Queen Bee" Mean Girl bullying behavior has evolved as a means to achieve power, but the implication is that those women who use at are higher up the evolution tree, an unpleasant conclusion. The Queen Bee targets victims who threaten their social standing by employing a combination of rumor, derogatory facial and body language along with freezing out and other bullying tactics. Who hasn't witnessed the Queen Bee drama? Why does the Media choose to perpetuate the Queen Bee in popular media? Madonna, Rihanna and the Spice Girls are all Queen Bees. Couldn't another type of woman help sell newspapers or bring hits to websites? Why are the Queen Bees described as feminist? The world today seems to be full of newspeak, full of opposite meanings. Women will one day gain social status from their minds, ideas and intuition. Surely the desperate housewife is boring.

I'm putting up a new Polite Notice this week, it's about time, and I've delayed this response as long as I could, two years of constant quizzing has been grinding me down as the questioning has reached a new peak. More on that next time.

Weekend Retreat

Do I feel happier when it's hot or sadder when it's cold? I've been asked this question a lot during this heat wave. (And during the cold snap, I'm asked how I'm coping with the freezing conditions.)

Here's the thing, I'm working I'm not on holiday, so the weather is like my office or my working conditions.  I don't feel emotional about the weather unless I'm not prepared.
The other truth is that there is already an assumption behind this line of questioning, which is why when I say I don't care about the hot weather, or mention it's challenges, people frown. It's not the correct answer, neither is enjoying cold weather. #The assumption is that my job is really bad when it's cold or raining and only good when it's hot and sunny.

The hot weather has meant greater delays doing errands, and I'm averse to public drunkeness in a way that makes me quintessentially un-British and much more European. As a result I've been enforcing my own personal curfew and avoiding spending time in crowded busy areas, because even though it's hot and sunny, at the end of the week I still feel the need to read, reflect and generally seek out connections between myself and the world

This weekend I watched a lot of drama...

I saw Channel 4's four-part series called "Run", set on an estate, that left me feeling irritated by the dull, flat female characters. They were cheerless, oppressed, victim/perpetrator and from the depressed rubbish mother, the Chinese immigrant selling DVD's to pay for her journey to the UK and the Polish cleaner who didn't notice that her boyfriend was missing. None of the female character displayed any warmth, courage, humour or intelligence.  This is a highly praised series, that looks to be followed up by another. I call it a "slash your wrist" series, but unfortunately none of the characters did. What was the message and meaning behind it all was not clear to see, it was just a cesspit of unhappiness.

"Before Midnight" was another disappointment, coming after the first two which were delightful, romantic and full of hope. The final installment (please, there can't possibly be any more coming) showed the disappointing happy ending of True Love. Or like listening to your neighbours shouting at each other, and then pretending the next day not to have heard them as they smile and wave hello- the unsettling love between narcissists.

The shining star was "The Way We Were" and I fell in love with the characters Hubbell and Katie. I felt like I was Katie, loud with strong views and her love of beautiful Hubbell, played in the movie by a gorgeous Robert Redford.
When he tries to break it off, she says,
"Is it because I'm not attractive? I am attractive though, I know I am. Is it because I'm not attractive in the right way?"
The writing is wonderful, some of the action happened off camera, and there were abundant romantic images on the beach and bedroom that contrasted with their fighting that demonstrated their frustration that the marriage couldn't work.
"What's wrong with us? Why can't we just love each other?"
There are a few links missing, and I'm going to read the book and dig into the behind the scenes. There seems to have been a struggle between the screenwriters.

I strongly recommend "The Way We Were". Which reminds me that it's time to watch that 1981 movie "Reds" with Diane Keaton and Warren Beatty. Beautiful and I noticed there aren't many copies left, so probably time to buy the 25th Anniversary edition.

Approaching the Two Year Anniversary

My coffee business will be two years old in September, and as the month approaches I'm struck by the differences and similarities of my situation now compared with then. I had to stop writing at the beginning because I couldn't bear to share my misgivings, hopes and fears outside of myself.

Those first six months were a Herculean trial, I was standing in a desert of onlookers, who each day wondered if I would still be there the next day. Their remarks would burst out when they saw me.

"Oh you're still here then?"
"Can you afford to come here every day?"
"You didn't give up then?"

It was a test, as commuters walked by, and then eventually when I had a customer it was an instant pass or fail the test. Take the order, make the coffee, talk to customer, money, smile goodbye, next. I love how a customer today remarked my life is in blocks of 15minutes. No, less. Those few hours when I'm working stretch and contracted, and the rest of my life before and after was merely preparation for those few hours when I'm standing outside the station.

The first winter was the toughest, and I used to come home frozen and take hot baths to defrost. No one can know the hard way I came to learn how to dress to work outside. The second winter was better, but I still couldn't find the right clothes, and I've decided to buy some dress patterns and material to make my own winter clothes for the third winter.

I love my faithful and loyal customers. They are dear to me as they have been along this journey, and if I can find ways to repay their trust and the hope they pass to me, I will.

I have tried to listen to others, only the good ones, and I have built an armor against the negativity. I managed to pass the first test, to survive beyond the first 18months, but now growth is bringing it's own set of challenges. I have got momentum, and if I can't keep up with it, I risk falling down. And if I fall down now the cost will be greater then if I had fallen down at the beginning.

Collage

I was fed on nerves in my first week of trading, I never thought about what it would be like to trade until the night before.
How nervous was I standing in the street? Being gazed at, nervously being seen by passersby, feeling the close proximity of the customers, the way everyone stared at me as they walked passed. The first day was the hardest, and I was hidden behind the van facing the bicycle shelter, because, of course, it rained my first few days. It rained, and it rained.  I didn't realise how tired I would be from waking up at 4.15am for the first time in my life, and of course, I was still learning my new espresso machine, which I would come to know intimately. The silver machine awakens each morning, breathing fire into coffee, this dragon machine, friend, my warmest pal.
And so I stood in a puddle for those first three days, and watched the sugar became wet on the table underneath the shelter.
"Your table is getting wet" Michael said, my local who became a regular.
"I know." We both looked at the table sadly.
"What will you do when the weather gets really bad?"
"I don't know yet."
Commuters searched me with their eyes asking, "Will you be here tomorrow?"
And I was. And the next day as well. I was there every day except the weekend.
That was three weeks ago.
I've had a couple of mornings where I failed to get my night's sleep beforehand, and my regulars were sympathetic. But this reminscing does not constitute a collage, the first few weeks of my trading was interspersed with changes at home, shedding my marital status, (I had been alone for years).
I saw a sign above every door that said, "be true to oneself". And so everything has been changing at once. My business is changing me, I shed the Job and became my own Employer. I feel part of a special club. I know secrets. I know what it is like to risk everything to make something from nothing. My new friend said I had created an oasis in a desert.
 Yes, looking back at these first few weeks, is like looking at a collage of experiences, of places and dreams, I see the faces of people I knew for a few moments who are now gone, back behind a wall.
I am waiting now to see what comes next. As I surrender to my afternoon nap that was once a waking dream, I find that I am no longer fearful. I am ready for the next chapter.

Rainy June

The past few months have been a haze, and the recovery of my husband has been mirrored by the new emerging plants in the garden, leaves grown from seed; the tender fuzzy lavender and mint and the newcomers from the garden centre, all proud and strong. Each day has been littered with questions about what I should do with my life, what comes next and where am I going? The desire for independence was inside me firing and pushing me forward to search for a new dream, and I think I found it. It was hidden, masked by my own cowardice.

I decided not to pursue e-publishing. A business plan showed me clearly that the publishing sector was on its death bed, even the big players were dying. Who is making money writing? (I mean writing not blogging.) What are people reading? (Blogs or Articles?) When the networks go down, and the power stations die, who will find our emails and our digital footprints? No. This publishing dream will only cause me pain, and until the sector discovers how to look after writers and the meaning of their work, I will not take it on alone, the challenge is too big.

The next step was to look at my other dream, running a bistro.

The sector is a buzzing zoo! And in the past few months we looked at coffee shops for sale, and met charming chancers. Tired couples seeking a fat nest egg for their retirement, individuals burned out from poor health. Many had watched their dream turn into a nightmare because even if successful, with no backdoor, no exit, it turned sour. Everyone wants to leave the party in the end, even if it is just to sleep or see the sun rise.
The bistro was a good idea, until the penny dropped that
it would be forever. "Cafe Keya, Welcome."
But once you enter you can never leave. (A trap!)
Not yet. Not yet.
But people need to eat.
They need to drink.
Those cooking programmes are a lie, they are voyeuristic, people don't enjoy cooking, not every day. There is money to be made. How can I get a slice of it?

The last turn in my journey brought me to the mobile caterers. They are the foodie fringe of the catering world, filled with part-timers, smelly burger vans, business scams and summer ice-cream vans. Is there any way I can fit into this market?

And so I come to the end of this chapter, otherwise known as the Beginning, the pre-start phase as it is known in the business world. I found the seed. I made it grow.
Gently and with love and faith. I kept it a secret.

It has been raining for weeks, and I suppose in a way, it's been raining for months. Until now.
Because now I see a rainbow.

I'll tell you about it later.

Empty Promises, Fuzzy Opinions, Negative Vibes

Today, I decided to start my blog, as I've had enough of all the agencies, quangos and organisations out there that promise support and help for start-up-businesses.

Yesterday, I contacted the Association of Illustrators for recommended rates for illustrators, and I got an email back saying that they did not offer free advice to non-members! I looked at their website, and it was clear that they were an organisation for illustrators, well I am not an illustrator. I thought that by asking them this important question, AOI would be supporting their members by recommending to a start-up what their rates should be. Nope, I have to pay a fee to join their organisation and then they will tell me. As a not-for-profit they cannot just help non-members (well, I would argue that as a not-for-profit, they should help their members, and the fact they are short-funded is not my problem).

Business Link was another one I tried to avoid for as long as possible. I downloaded some pretty good factsheets yesterday, so my icy heart melted a bit. I was excited to come across a scheme they had running to support women entrepreneurs. Will they help me?

I got a call this morning, "Sorry that scheme is closed."
"But I read it on your website"
"We are in the process of updating that. Due to the government cuts, we have no grants or money to support start-up's."
"What can you do then?"
"I can email you some links and factsheets."
"Ok, fine. Thanks." I could hear her typing away, I was becoming another statistic, I wonder if they will record the phonecall as a positive outcome?

Ok. So other organisations I have contacted in the past week or two were, Elixir, Tie.org, Incito, Finance South East. None of these have gone anywhere.

I have made a list of possible funding sources, ok, the word "list" sounds generous. There are 6 names on the list.

I was watching a Dispatches programme last night about how CEO's of public sector private companies were being paid millions. I feel irritated today with all these organisations that say they support, mentor or help start-up businesses, but then when you contact them, want to charge you £99 to attend business planning workshops, or with the FinanceSouthEast, that is SUPPORTED BY THE GOVERNMENT, charge £950+VAT to get full feedback on your business plan.

There is something weird about all these organisations that are funded by the Government, they have staff and yet when I contact them they charge for all services beyond a half hour phonecall! They want to charge start-up businesspeople who are still working their day job and dreaming of success!

I am feeling the scam, is there anyone else out there on this same journey?