Welcome to my new Welbeck Blog in which I intend to share a few thoughts and funny stories (well in my opinion anyway.)
I have to admit, I'm not the keenest D.I.Y.er in the world but our Hotel is too small to employ a permanent maintenance man. It's also a little time consuming to explain exactly how and where you'd like something erected/attached/whatever, so on occasion, I just have to roll up the sleeves and get the job done myself.
On even rarer moments, I even in flashes of extreme weakness agree to do some minor act of workmanship for my Mother as happened about two weeks ago.
To assist me in my artisanship, I have all kinds of rubbish and a few useful items such as fixings, rawl plugs and a drill stuck on 'hammer' assembled in battered old plastic also known as a toolbox.
Of course, despite my reputation for efficiency, tidiness and lying about nonexistant attributes some unkind people suggest that I'm terrible for not putting things back where I'm supposed to and having taken the aforementioned equipment out of the Hotel, when I returned it I put it underneath the paper rack in Reception.
That was on Friday and it was still there when I came back to work that night but when I came to use it on Monday, it was nowhere to be seen.
In spite of a gestapo style search of the hotel and an inquiry encompassing staff and workmen in the Hotel, not a trace of it could be found and I was totally puzzled.
The only things I could possible think had happened were that somewhere on the Island was the most disappointed thief in history wondering what to do with a pile of junk or that somebody had removed it accidentally thinking that it contained their proper trade implements.
When in desperation, I finally remembered to ask Franklyn, the nightporter, his only suggestion was that it could have been a couple of chaps who'd left early on the Saturday morning.
I waited a few more days before eventually, feeling like Basil Fawlty, I plucked up the courage to give them a ring to see whether they'd mistakenly 'half inched' my box and when I mentioned that I thought they'd left on the sunday instead of the Saturday, I began to feel extremely embarassed that I'd even made the phone call, hanging up as quickly and as apologetically as I could. If they the gentleman could feel the heat from my red face over the telephone wire, I could hardly have been surprised.
However, about half an hour later, Irene received a call from the same chap also experiencing feelings of contrition as it turned out that they had indeed packed my toolbox into their van.
My toolbox is currently holidaying in Cumbria, though it has been promised that it will be home within the next few weeks.
It's an excuse for me not to do my chores, so I'm not too bothered and if the truth be told, I was actually looking forward to buying myself a fancy cordless drill.
At least I've learnt to always put things away after I've used them. Well maybe anyway......
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