The first little flaw in my new world came one morning as I was doing prep, and stood contentedly in front of the washing up sinks, peeling potatoes. It was just after my wonderful days off, and I was wonderfully happy, as the second of my days were beautiful and clear, and after my breakfast I had spent the rest of the day driving around and finding some new spots for me to have a picnic or sleep over, and I was softly singing an old Afrikaans song, all at one with the world, when Lorna came in, followed by the little cowboy, dressed to kill, or rather dressed for herding cattle on his imaginary horse, but the effect was spoiled by Lorna's angry voice scolding him for something he did wrong again. On seeing me she stopped dead in her tracks, looked at me with disbelieve, before announcing in an icy voice: 'That is not the way to peel potatoes in my kitchen!' This time I looked at her in disbelieve, as to my way of thinking there are two ways of peeling tatties, the one way is with a knife, the other with a peeler, exactly as I was doing.
'Please put the bucket into the sink, and peel into that, because you are making a mess!' Now, I am a tall woman, and the sinks were meant for stone age people who grew no higher that maybe five feet if they were lucky, and for me to stand bent over this sink for hours while peeling veggies was out of the question!
The little cowboy was now looking much happier, as he was for the moment out of the firing range, and he stood there nodding his head in agreement, making appropriate noises.
I was really flabbergasted, as the peels were all inside the bucket, and as far as I could see there was no mess, apart from the bucket on the sink. So I tried to keep my cool, and in a faked friendly voice I said: 'But Lorna, I don't leave the peels for you or anybody else to clean up, so I can't really see your point', at which she almost lost her temper, and told me shortly that in her kitchen things were done the correct way, before flouncing out again, the cowboy at her heels.
I went on peeling into the bucket, as I was adamant to have this sorted, and fast, as I am not a child, and I would not allow anybody to talk to me like that. After my shift was finished I went to her office, and very calmly told her that as I am so tall, I could not see my way open to stand bent over the low sinks, and if she expected me to do that, I had no other option than to leave.
She had a bit of a fright, as cooks were hard to come by, and as it was, I was doing most of the baking and cooking by now. I could see that it was hard for her to give in, but I held her watery gaze, as I actually had been offered another job, and if I had known that the other hotel In Strathyre wanted me, I would have gone there. But I just don't leave people in the middle of a season knowing how scarce sober cooks were, so I went up to my room and did a caricature of self bending over the sink!