Tomorrow we have logistics going on to rival Tesco ( still waiting for that opder Dan).
Shriley's leaving the Island with a car full of beer and boxes for courier deliveries from the hub - and Chris is going over to the island with distribution boxes, bottle labels and crates. They'll wave to each other at the pier.
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To hell with the man from Delmonte - the lady from Peckhams has just emailled with the Isle of Colonsay Brewing Company's biggest order to date.
Before the ping of the inbox had time to disappate we'd phoned to book the delivery in for Thursday Morning - done deal. Thanks Lady.
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Why does it always rain on me?
Glasgow Farmers Market got off to a flying start - as soon as our licence allowed us to we were selling like hot cakes taking oodles of cash before even the official opening time. The just after 11 the heavens opened, Mansfield Park became Mansfield Pool and the west end shopper sretreated to the pine floored flats never to be seen again.
We had a good day - It should have been much better. A lady come along with her old box of six to get it refilled for a third time. We even knocked an extra quid off seeing we'd saved two boxes.
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A busy day tomorrow for brewery executives. Bob and Chris trundling down from the island about their various duties laden down with beer.
The mainland sales executive making calls in Edinburgh to potential and exisiting outlets. This means that once again the boss is in sole command of the brewry. No doubt there will be an increased responsibility allowance creeping into the accounts. Bob's off to Munich, tail between his legs,having failed to persuade his partners that endless quantities of German Beer do not qualify as a legitimate business expense - unless we are all there.
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Station Road Milngavie. The Christmas farmers’ market stalls are laid out along the pedestrian precinct, their awnings flapping in the near gale force winds. The light from the shop windows cuts through the December gloom making the golf ball sized raindrops look like tracer shells as they ping down the street aglistening.
The wrapped up burghers of this prosperous Glasgow suburb, designer shell suits and gold electronic tags, hurry about their business seemingly oblivious to the market delights on sale as they pull their hats down, stare at the ground and race for cover.
The stall holders. Sad faced in the knowledge of the poor days trading inevitably ahead of them manage only the most basic of pleasantries to their potential customers and each other, from under their layers of scarves, hats and down filled waterproof jackets. But look: what’s that over there in all this December gloom. Why it’s our mainland sales executive resplendent in Kilt, Christmas hose and Balmoral bunnet with just a bright coloured jersey to fend off the cold.
Yes – when he was asked to come to do the market the organiser said the December event was going to be a special fancy dress event with a prize for the best dressed stall and stall holder. So why did no one tell the MSE the plan had changed?
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