By the time you read this post I will be on my way to work. Normally I work long hours Wednesday and Thursday and then a fifteen hour work day on a Friday which ends at midnight. But this week I am also working on Saturday. So I am completely missing out on my nice slow sleepy Saturday morning this week.
I am dreading Saturday for so many reasons! For a start, I will be tired from the moment I wake up after my marathon Friday. Mornings are hilarious for me! I wake up with my head feeling as if someone is squeezing it in a vice and I do this weird crawl/shuffle towards my pain killers and water.
Then I make my way in the same mode to the Nespresso machine. I sip my coffee and watch the BBC Breakfast news, although at that point I cannot actually take any information in. But the presenters have friendly faces and that’s all that matters. Just a nice cheerful face with smiles to encourage me that it is all going to be alright. I just need to wait for about twenty minutes or so for that pain to ease off. By that time I am ready for breakfast.
Today breakfast was a bagel. It was very nice. I decided I needed a treat because I know Saturday is going to be a long old day. So I bought some cinnamon and raisin bagels. Very pleasant start to the day I have to say.
Normally two girls who are very good at their job work together on Saturdays. Saturdays are by far our busiest day. In fact it is intense. I have only ever done one Saturday and it was a big shock to me. However, because both of the girls will be away tomorrow, I will be working the very busy Saturday shift with my manager (who is really really good at her job) and I am petrified.
The pace will be intense because we have such a massive foot-fall on Saturdays. I am going to be flapping – I just know it! I have a feeling my manager is going to wonder what I am doing, because I will be overwhelmed I am quite sure. Clients are going to be asking me all sorts of questions I can’t answer, and in front of my manager, I can’t really say, “I’m new, I don’t have a clue!” Maybe I am not giving myself credit where it’s due. I know customers are pleased with me for being friendly, helpful and a good communicator. My technical knowledge is so limited though. Oh well, I have known I was going to be doing this coming Saturday for some time, I have to go through with it.
To be honest it is probably a really good opportunity for me to learn a lot from my manager. She has over thirty years experience in her field and she explains things so clearly. It is probably a priceless chance to expand my knowledge and understanding of our policies and processes.
To give me something to look forward to…I have a roasted vegetable and hummus sandwich which I am looking forward to devouring at lunch time.
Oh boy oh boy – so worried about my long working Saturday! I do hope London folk are kind to me! I am just a kiddo and I have no idea what I am talking about half the time, only I need to look as if I am not completely hopeless in front of my manager!
I have woken up craving lemons, well more specifically it is lemon curd that I am craving. I eye-balled some in the supermarket the other day and resisted the impulse to sneak it into my shopping trolley. But now I am wishing I had given into my desires.
Well…it is thinking of lemons and lemon curd that has inspired me to write about a person I want to share with you, in connection with my nomination from Michelle, the creator of 
All of the other staff have been very lovely and very helpful. I am so glad to be part of a team who are so kind and have been so patient with me.
I was thinking about work. I really like my new job and especially the people I am working with, but I have had some really tough situations to endure in previous employment. When you have difficult, obnoxious colleagues – they can make your working hours a nightmare. I am sure I am not the only one who has been in a job that is hard to endure. Have you had the feeling of dread when you think about facing your workmates again? Or perhaps it’s the clients or customers that make the job unbearable? Have you ever had days at work when you were close to tears most of the day, or had that feeling of wanting to walk out on a job and never go back?
Well, kindness is sometimes the ray of sunshine that keeps you going. So of all the places to be kind (and home should of course be the foremost haven of kindness) please remember to be kind to your workmates and colleagues. Some of your workmates may not have a kind word waiting for them at home, they may face hostility or abuse. A kind word at work can help dissipate stressful situations. Kindness can sustain the heavy hearted. You might not have any idea how close to tears your colleagues might be.
Now who could take on a task like that? A very special lady affectionately called Auntie Margo by those thousands of young men! She was the undisputed Queen of The Cleaners for decades!
Auntie Margo was strict. She made sure those boys took their responsibilities seriously. Notes would be left to remind a young man if he had not done something. If a young man was careless and neglectful on a regular basis, they would be reported to the accommodation manager. He might have “a word” with them. If the young man still did not improve their habits, then the accommodation manager might have to ring the supervisor of the young man while he is at work (for example the young man might have a volunteer assignment as an electrician or a carpenter/joiner or a job in accounts or in the huge kitchens or in the garage as a mechanic) and explain that the young man should be asked to leave his work assignment and return to his accommodation immediately where Aunty Margo would meet him and give him a refresher training session in the domestic tasks required of him and the state to leave his room in when departing for work!
Making their own bed in the morning
Now some of the young single men had left their family home and were struggling to get used to life in London so far away from their family and friends. They may have been shy or lonely. But there was always at least one person looking out for them and making sure that if they needed to talk, she always had the door to her house-keeping cupboard (which was an office and storage area) wide open.-675x450.jpg)
I know many men now in their forties and fifties who say that when they first moved to London, it was Aunty Margo who made them feel welcome. They made frequent trips to visit her and gobbled slices of fruit cake and guzzled tea while she listened to their challenges and gave them encouragement.
In my third year as a volunteer working in an infirmary, we started to receive phone-calls from night security to say they were worried about Aunty Margo. Sometimes we would go down to the reception area at one o’clock in the morning and Aunty Margo would be working away with her feather duster and microfiber cloths polishing the glass tables. Or she would be in the dining room at three o’clock in the morning waiting for hundreds of other volunteers to arrive for breakfast. We kindly and tactfully helped her to realize the time and suggested she might want to rest.
We had lots of visitors coming to check up on the incredibly popular Aunty Margo. Even more memorable were the trips out of the infirmary (which were almost daily). In nicer weather we often went out for a drive and went to animal parks, shops, garden centers, cafes or we took Aunt Margo to visit the house-keepers she adored. But we took her to other locations. She went to visit all the maintenance team (electricians, plumbers, joiners), she went to visit the gardeners, she went to visit the accounts department, the legal department, the garage full of mechanics. She always caused a riot!
The decorator who had made a pledge and then pulled out had referred the project manager to our main coordinator. He had a huge team of volunteers who were skilled decorators. However, he was not able to give any of his own time at such short notice because he already had other commitments. Normally, projects are scheduled weeks, months or even years in advance. His only suggestion was that the project manager ring some of the decorators and ask if any were available at short notice.
So, in all honesty, the desperate plea from the project manager was something I did hesitate about. I explained even if I could be available, it was not a one-person job. It was a huge venue. I could not do it alone in one day. I said we need more help. As he and I continued to discuss the task at hand, thoughts flooded my mind of how I first felt when I became a volunteer. The excitement, the thrill, the satisfaction of learning completely new skills and achieving results I never imagined I was capable of. The enjoyment of being part of a wonderful, willing team of volunteers who had such a joyful good humour. It was not like any paid work I had ever been involved with. I knew that if the project manager could muster a group of unskilled but willing enthusiastic volunteers then there was a definite possibility we could accomplish something. I only had my own decorating tools.
When we arrived, we were thrilled to find a group of different ages, male and female. There were even three boys who had come on holiday for the weekend to visit some friends and who had been roped into helping. One major help to maintaining the enthusiasm of the volunteers was the volunteer team who supplied breakfast, lunch, an evening snack, and rounds of hot and cold drinks and cake throughout the day. Amazing! Feed the workers!!! Essential to the success of any voluntary project!
Then I had a couple of pasters. They had to paste the walls. Then we had a couple of teams who would hang the large lengths of paper. Each team was made of two. One person would have to stand on the stepladder bearing the weight of the length of wall-paper, the other would have a spirit level to make sure everything was straight. They had special spatula boards for smoothing the paper onto the wall. One task I did not train anyone else in at first was cutting the seams in between each piece. I decided until I knew how each person I worked I had better do that to myself to begin with (later on in the day I was able to assign someone that task and he did a fantastic job). I also had some volunteers doing some painting and varnishing.
Well…we did it! With a team who had never used industrial wall-paper, some of whom had never even lifted a paintbrush or attempted any kind of decorating. With just one set of tools and a lot of cake and cups of tea, an incredibly willing attitude and a lot of beautiful qualities like humility, patience and willingness to be trained and corrected, that marvellous team achieved what at one stage had seemed impossible.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the whole world was a team of volunteers who were going to work together to clean up this planet. Everyone willing and eager to take on any task given to them. All happy to learn new skills and humble enough to learn and be corrected. We would not stop until the whole planet was clean and there was a satisfactory home for each person – nothing ostentatious, just something that was comfortable and suitable for the environment where it was situated. I am sure there would be some volunteers given the task of the catering, key members of the work force…food fuels the volunteers.
Well, for a start I did not want to grow up at all. It really distressed me when I hit the age of ten. Everyone teased me, “now you are in double figures”, and I knew at that point there was no turning back! I wanted to be a child forever. I am sure many of you would have had similar sentiments at one stage that being an adult has always seemed an unavoidable outcome. But if we could remain in a Peter Pan state, many of us would take that option.
So…when my teacher recorded each one of us saying into a microphone, “When I grow up I want to be a…”, my idea came straight from my little friend. So when it was my turn, I announced to the class and to my teacher: “When I grow up I want to be a…sculpture.”
Why? Well, when I was six years old I was given a public speaking assignment in front of an audience of around two hundred. The theme I was assigned was bizarre considering I was only six. It was “What is the value of a university education?” My first question for my mum was, “what is university?“
That was good enough for my teachers…they helped me to develop a career plan in order to become a journalist. Did I want to be a journalist? Nah!!!! But it did help to have something to suggest to the teachers, so they would leave me alone.
However, this was just paid part time work, in order to earn my bread and butter. I knew exactly what I wanted to be the moment I walked onto a construction site as a volunteer. From then on, I knew what I wanted to be for the rest of my life – a volunteer, working on projects wherever there was a need, teaching people the skills I had been taught.
I still think that the way the world works right now is upside down and back to front…I think the vague idea I had at the age of five, of what everyone on the planet should be doing when they grow up – caring for the animals, growing vegetation, building their own house and furniture, making their own clothes and curtains, and supporting their neighbours, enjoying happy times together, eating, dancing, singing – was very sensible actually.
Caramel 