Sam, Lucy and I were discussing retirement on holiday. I'm 59 this year, so it's getting closer and closer.
I do blow hot and cold about retiring. I enjoy my job and like working with people in the company. I'd miss that stimulation, amusement and companionship when I retired.
However, the job does require a lot of travelling (four hours a day) which means that, during the week, you have no time for anything but work and travel. Get in at 7.45pm, have some supper, perhaps have a chat or watch some TV and then it's bed at 9pm to be up for 5am.
Sam thought I might go part time and it's a good idea, but my job is office based and part-time working would mean that either I'd pay a chunk of money for a season ticket that I wasn't utilising 20 or 40 per cent of the time or that I'd pay high prices for individual tickets.
I told Sam about Oaks for England, my other ideas and a few random ones like artisan baking (I'm watching too much TV) and he came up with a suggestion which would keep me busy for three months.
The idea is to make cider from apples which are otherwise going to be wasted. It has a number of plus points:
- No cost for ingredients.
- A helpful lack of red tape on taxation.
- Appeal to campaigns against waste.
- This could be a garage (or shed) project.
So here's the plan: I find a source of apples, they are apples that people have surplus, that they don't want to pick or that have fallen on the ground and are bruised so unsuitable for eating - "cosmetically challenged" would be the phrase. I'd need quite a stack of these as you can make and sell up to 2,000 litres of cider without having to pay an excise duty, so collecting them would be very labour intensive.
Once I have the apples, I'd need to chop them, press them (I'd have to buy a cider press), ferment the juice in large plastic tubs, then syphon off into bottles. Sam thought that a nice touch would be to use various random bottles that I'd been able to collect during the year. These might range from old wine bottles to plastic water bottles. The cider would be priced by volume for a 50cl water bottle would be priced lower than a 70cl wine bottle; you could even sell 1-litre bottles if they were available.
To get maximum price for the product, you'd need to have some clever marketing. The campaign against waste and the bottle recycling scheme would be useful, then you'd need to retail the cider perhaps at a market or, better still, a farmers' market. We thought about calling it Recycled Cider, but that doesn't really work. Still have to come up with a decent name.
It's a work in progress!
Update: Tom has come up with a good suggestion for a name - Windfall Cider. This has the benefit of suggesting the recycling, no-waste element of the business and also implying an unexpected bonus for the consumer.
Tom says he went to Europe’s first dedicated cider bar last week.
It’s called the Cider Tap, opposite the Euston Tap (outside Euston station).
He says it has loads of UK and Breton
farm ciders straight from the barrel.
On a completely different subject, there was a lucky escape for some feathered creatures in Thorney yesterday. Lucky birds no 1 were Arcardia's flock of chickens which, since his shed burned down and burned a hole on his fence/hedge, have been able to get out into the field and the field track. Holly and Gravel turned the corner yesterday and were presented with the mouthwatering sight of a dozen tasty chickens - I bet they thought they were in Springer Spaniel heaven. Luckily they were on short leads and Margaret was able to rein them in and the only damage was the loss of a couple of tail feathers. Then, walking up Toneham, both dogs passed a spot then suddenly turned around and charged back. There was a particularly stupid pheasant laying low in the grass. Holly was first to it and grabbed it in her jaws. She's not used to catching big birds and either wasn't holding it tightly enough or didn't like the feel of it in her mouth. In any event, she let it slip and it took to the air to make its escape, just evading a massive jump from Gravel who would have clamped his jaws around it like a great white shark.
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