Well, it's been a while

Having updated The Leopard's web site (let me know what you think of it) I thought I had better add a new blog. I apologise for not having written anything here for a while, but the pub keeps me busy - you know how it is. Actually, you probably don't - most folk think us landlady/landlord types live the life of Riley, (who this Riley is I don't know, but with it being an Irish sounding name and having been St. Patrick's weekend, it seems fitting to use the phrase) and that we sleep till midday, where upon we begin drinking and generally making merry. But until Disney send me a host of fairies, imps & various woodland creatures to do the jobs I have to do and I learn to cope with hangovers whilst working, (merry making is, however, actually part of my job) writing my blog is a luxury I don't often get time for. However, today is one of those days when all the targets have been met, all the work is done and the pigs are fed and ready to fly. Plus there are a couple of hours till bedtime & I am in the mood to write.

Today has been a busy one, and that makes me happy. No, it's not a financial thing, I genuinely get a kick out seeing (or hearing) people having a good time. My 'Office Days' are usually planned around The Leopard's quieter times, but today Callum, who was given a shift we fondly refer to as an AFD (if you don't know what that means, my guess is you don't work in hospitality, but feel free to pop in and ask me, or email me [via contact] for the answer) and has actually earned his peanuts. For there have been many comings and goings: regulars, visitors and a rook of food. Some of the former have been in residence all day (a testament, methinks, to their level of enjoyment) some have popped in and out, (because they had things to do but didn't want to miss the banter) and the latter certainly wasn't around for very long. Obviously, having a laugh is hungry (and thirsty) work, so as the regulars didn't want to go home for their tea, I gave them the green light to devour take-away in the pub. One thing that has been consistent today, however, and appreciated immensely, is the sound of laughter. It has been drifting up though our creaky and wonky floorboards all day and provided a very pleasant back-drop to my numerous tasks today.

But let us return to my mention of St. Patrick's Weekend, as I simply must return to this day of celebration (or in The Leopard's case TWO day celebration) and pay homage to those brave souls who joined us for our Paddy Party on Friday night and Murder of Crows LIVE on Saturday, despite the snow. (Whilst I don't want to bore you with discussions of 'The Weather', it is a typically British thing to do, so please indulge me here for a moment as I would like to elucidate further regarding said weather: Is it me or is Winter seriously pissed off? We've argued with Winter, he's stormed out - slamming the door behind him and then keeps bursting back into the room shouting "and another thing!!". As spring officially starts tomorrow, let's hope Winter has now slammed the door for the last time and won't come back again. On the same subject, and I add this just in case you haven't realised, our Canadian cousins are no doubt wetting themselves laughing at us because we can't cope with what is, to them, a very minimal, dusting of snow. We have become an object of ridicule in countries where snow does not close schools, deter public transport or provide snow days. I would bet that we [Britain] are the subject of countless TV comedy shows in these aforementioned snow-bound countries and there has been much belly laughing at clips of us either feebly attempting to cope with our snow, or simply giving up. But, as usual, I digress). I don't blame the good folk of Tutters for donning their jimmy-jams, plonking themselves in comfortable reach of their fires and watching TV, rather than venturing out in the cold. But those of you who missed our celebrations of all things Irish, missed a good 'un - especially on Saturday night.

On Saturday, we had a band, but not just any band (cue the M&S advert music and voice over) we had an exceptional band. Now being a landlady who books a veritable plethora of bands, I liken the task, and my dealings with said bands, to motherhood. In as much as I love all our bands and do not have favourites. (If Sadie is reading this she will, no doubt smile to herself, think 'We all know I am your favourite, Mummy' and then be distracted by something pink and glittery. However, as she is probably too busy with marathon training, Alaska [that's her dog, I am not alluding to place that can actually cope with snow], the gym, cooking, cleaning, shopping and looking after three of my four grandchildren, that she probably wont have time to read this. Which means, (woohoo) I can share a secret with you, dear blog reader: If I must admit to having a favourite, then I admit to collectively favouring my Grandchildren! I do love 'em to bits - in fact I wish I'd had them first.) Now, (and here I am talking mainly to any band members who entertain us here at The Leopard - especially Guy from Eclectic Mayhem) please do not take what I am about to say as me favouritising. I am not. But, Murder of Crows DO deserve a doff of my cap, for not only providing us with a stonking show, great performance and an awesome night of top tunes and sexy songs (as I said on Facebook - I defy anyone to watch MOC and to not be happy and buzzin') but Andy, Johnny, Cass, Chris and Macca (great to see you & Mrs Macca again) got here (on time) REGARDLESS of the fact it was snowing and DESPITE some of them having to travel a fair distance. They also (and again REGARDLESS of the fact it coninued snowing, quite heavily) went on to play two full sets, and provided several encores too. AND, if that wasn't worthy enough of my praise, some of them had arduous journeys home to negotiate. So, thank you lads, it was much appreciated, not only by me, but the audience too. (Many of whom haven't stopped talking about you guys since) At one point, one of the band members did jokingly ask, over the mic, if they could stay the night, because of said snow and whether I would also provide breakfast. I, equally in jest, sign languaged (so the audience couild see) my enthusiastic agreement to this request. I may have also said, really quietly, under my breath and perhaps whilst looking longingly at MOC's lead singer, Johnny, (who has something of the Billy Idols about him), "and YOU can sleep in my room." Ok, Ok, so I did say that, AND I also said it louder than I thought, and YES Mrs Macca (aka Nikki/Band Crew/Photographer) DID hear me. But hey, every woman gotta have a dream. Right? And NO MOC band members, you may not ask , if fact, please, please' don't ask me which of YOU guys is my favourite, because I don't do favourites. So there. You see, I simply couldn't choose one of you over the others, you are all equally nice, funny, handsome and talented. (Johnny, if you're reading this, yeah, it IS you!)

Anyhoo, I think I should change the subject. Now, I could I discuss the debacle that took place on a couple of Facebook groups this week. (At least now, if you are familiar with aforementioned groups, you're thinking about 'Tuttersgate' rather than what I wrote in the previous paragraph). However, discretion is the better part of valour, and now I have thrown you off the scent I think I will elect not to expand on that subject, and make like Sweden instead. IE remain neutral. Talking of Sweden, aside from them being impartial and producing amazeballs, flat-packed furniture (gotta love Ikea - eh Lauren & Scott - did you finish that wardrobe yet?) Sweden are also notable for their 1974 Eurovision Contest winning song - Waterloo by ABBA. (Come to think of it, I think a few folks may have met their 'Waterloo' on Facebook - Oh Ah Just a Little Bit). Anyway, in case you've missed the hype (no, not the Facebook thing, the Eurovision preparations in the media thing) The Eurovision Song Contest is, once again, looming in the not too distant future, and, for a change (AND because we do like to shake our spots up at The Leopard every so often) we're having a EUROVISION SONG CONTEST PARTY this year. We've booked a projector so you can watch all the un-political voting, the thrilling action and the various countries performances on a BIG SCREEN - won't that be fun?! (Yes, it bloody will!) We'll also be taking bets on the outcome, so there'll be some cash up for grabs too. The UK's entry for 2018 is Storm (hopefully not in a tea-cup, [yet again I am reminded of the Facebook carry on] by SuRie, just in case you're wondering/bothered (please delete as appropriate - if neither applies well, sorry you just lost a few moments of your life) and we'll be playing games too, whilst consuming sufficient alcoholic beverages to render the Eurovision results insignificant. Unless of course we (The UK) wins, in which case, we'll have an excuse to

celebrate and consume more alcohol. And, who knows, the UK may be victorious this time. After all we have had several good & memorable entries in the past - Puppet on a String, Boom-bang-a-bang, Save Your Kisses For Me, The Bad Old Days, Rock Bottom, Come Back, Love Enough for Two and Making Your Mind Up to name a few (and also listing what could be aptly titled songs on 'Kaz's relationships soundtrack'! THAT album certainly wouldn't be a hit with my exes though!) So, make a note of the date and join the party!

Right, that is enough for now. It's been a long, but productive and enjoyable day, but I have to sleep. To sleep perchance to dream? Maybe. If I do dream, my dreams might make it onto my blog. It depends, however, on what I actually dream about. Afterall I don't want to turn my blog into something only adults could read, cos, let's face it, there are few of us who actually like adulting. I myself, do not. For one thing I am not very good at, and for another, it is sanctimoniously and unreservedly boring. Constant and consistent adulting calls for a level of seriousness that I can only aspire too.

And (to borrow a closing quote from Clarkson, Hammond and May's amusing [and anti-adulting] petrol hedonistic show) on that bombshell...

Good night.