I wrote this a week ago, back in August, when the sun was shining.

Last night we had a spontaneous supper for a few friends. I dragged everyone outside to the dry dust bowl of a garden to soak up what will undoubtedly be a decreasing number of light moments in the early evening, savouring it for as long as we can. A little chillier but nevertheless beautiful, stunning skies, special, short-lived for now. As I write, frustratingly, I struggle to remember the very lucid flow I had in my mind in the middle of the night. It puts me off because it never seems as poignant when I actually put pen to paper.  

This summer has been madder than most. In a normal summer we treat a boiling hot day as the last, never sure if there will be another. The trouble being that the ‘last’ glorious day has now lasted three months, and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am saturated in rosé and sunshine, a permanently salty body, straw-like hair, my garden, my house, my work neglected. The dogs have had some great walks and swims, as have we; the house looks like a war zone and the garden like a tinderbox.  I have utterly lost touch with the outside world, literally shut down. At least I haven’t had to endure Trump’s voice, but I did listen to Dolly Parton’s 2014 Glastonbury set singing Jolene this morning. Joy.

I must confess a small something in me is beginning to yearn for the other side, but not just yet.  Hanging onto the fading summer as long as possible. Spur-of-the-moment, impromptu life; very spoiling and indulgent, but a very happy thing. Food cooked in the same spirit, odd things from the garden to supplement a fish or two. The other night, three mackerel were dropped by a friend, another one landed by Hal, and two mullet were spear-fished off Greenaway by Alfie.  Two nights of delicious, simple suppers.  All four boys are at home but not for much longer, making it feel even more like that dreaded back-to-school feeling. I’m sitting in the veg garden now, bright sunlight sinking fast, screeching buzzards circling overhead, adding to that feeling in the air that summer is fading. The air is so still, so peaceful and calm. I feel very lucky. 

Tonight in our sitting room, which I have barely been in for the last few months, except to clear up dog chaos and endless spider webs (hate dusting them away), I sit trying to finish this journal. I had a tonic of a swim only 3 hrs ago in the beautiful early evening light, warm sand, warm air, but already it is dark outside. The season is changing. After our swim, we sat outside Four Boys bar with a glass of wine, having promised myself I wouldn’t drink tonight. It's Monday, but here, right now, it doesn’t seem to matter what day of the week it is; everything blurs into one. A proper holiday feeling. 

I’m about to go to bed. Alfie and George, who started work in Four Boys before I was downstairs this morning, are still not home. Restaurant life is tough. Our business is so seasonal. Next week it's September and life will be very different. It can feel a bit like falling off a cliff. A crescendo of people early in the spring; Easter was busy this year, summer half term always full on. Weddings keep the wheels spinning in the quieter weeks; and then in July business takes off and stays that way until the end of August, when that shocking cliff fall happens. The challenging reality of managing the food production, buying and staffing, always making sure there is enough but not too much. And keeping the amazing team in good spirits, ensuring they know we appreciate everything they do. It is a team effort, always has been and always will be. The production kitchen headed by Carl, feeding so many different parts of the business, the deli team headed by Rosie, and the Four Boys team headed by Lukas and Matt have pulled out all the stops this year. I feel so deeply proud of all of them and of Course George, who engineers it all with great calm and a great sense of fun. And so now, at the end of August, summer closes, but that's ok. Lots to look forward to. We paddle on, with new plans and ideas hatched over the last few months to put in place for next season, hopefully making your experience and the life of our team better and better.

Fee