Fair Comment

We have a new design for our comments cards.

One side is aimed at adults, the other for children. The children's side is colourful and asks questions such as "what did you enjoy the most today?" ("the baby lambs!"), "what did you enjoy the least?" ("sheep poo") and "what did you discover?" ("nofing").

Reading the children's cards is always entertaining. My all time favourite has to be the one I retrived from the box after our wildlife day. Lovely Warden runs this event and takes the children on a nature walk as well as making bird boxes and bird feeders with them. It is a fun afternoon of romping through the woods, getting to play with a hammer and drill and, as if all that wasn't enough excitement, then rolling a pine cone in lardy dough and birdseed.

You can only imagine my delight at discovering the following gem under the "what did you enjoy the most today?" heading:

"I liked going round the house, making a bird box and Lovely Warden's fat balls."

Halloween Happenings

Here you see McColleague hard at work, making final adjustments to our Grim Reaper mannequin. We had decided he was a tad over-stuffed for someone skeletal, so she is removing some bubble wrap. It was a pose that begged to be recorded for posterity.

Our hanging creations are complete, and now in place in the trees. They have proved hugely popular with visiting children, and I have spotted many having their picture taken with our various creatures. We call this one Spike.
This is Swampy.
This is Grunt.
This is Yvonne.
And this is the Bad Bishop.

I have since received a comment card. It reads:

"My husband and I enjoyed the tea room and the house but we felt that as practising Christians the witches and corpses depicting Halloween weren't quite what we were expecting!"

I have many thoughts on this point of view, but the one I shall leave you with is that it's still a lot less scary than the Nursery Rhyme Walk.

Throwaway Comment

I unlocked the comments box and reached inside. I retrieved a slelection of cards and questionnaires, completed by our visitors and then deposited within the box. The questionnaires all have to be sent off to the company we use to compile the data at the end of the year.

One questionnaire immediately caught my eye. It had been scrawled on in red pen. An oversized "Fuck you!" gouged across the front page. Turning it over I saw the equally pithy "Fuck you. You smell. Gaylord." emblazoned across the back.

Does this count as a genuine visitor comment and should I still post it to the market research department?

Ducklings Do Not So Much Fly, as Plummet

Yesterday evening the duck eggs in the hollow oak tree finally hatched! Mother duck had left the nest and was circling the base of the tree, quacking incessantly, while her fluffy ducklings teetered on the edge of the hole and refused to jump. Round and round went mother duck, her quacks become increasingly plaintive.

I spotted increased movement in the hole in the tree and then one bold duckling went for it. He kind of plummeted head first to the ground and landed on his back, bounced a goodly way in the air, and then took off after his still-circling mum, apparently none the worse for wear. The other ducklings obviously saw his bad landing and thought "no way". They refused to budge.

As the evening drew on, my other half could stand it no longer. "I'm going to hoy them out of there," he announced.

"But, that's not part of nature's plan," I protested.

"Yeah, well, I don't see that falling on their heads is part of nature's plan. I'm going to get them out."

So, up he climbed. "Oh wow," he said, peering inside the hole.

"Take a picture," I cried. Precariously, hanging on with one hand and trying hard not to fall out of the tree and into the moat, he did:

One by one, he handed down a duckling to my outstretched hands, and I then put them on the grass, where they were happily reunited with their mother. We counted out thirteen ducklings in total, and each and every one of them crapped in my hands. Can't say I blame them.

Our intervention doesn't seem to have done them any harm. They drew crowds all afternoon at the Easter event. There may have been giant games, birds of prey, exotic reptiles, insects, mammals, tractor and trailer rides, quizzes and chocolate eggs yet the ducklings were proving to be strong competition.

Unprecedented numbers of people turned up today. Our trailer rides were so popular they were totally over-subscribed and we had to shoehorn in an extra couple of tours. There isn't an ice cream left in the shop. My feet hurt. But, this is what makes it all worthwhile - a lovely couple of comments cards left for me this evening:

"By far the best place I have visited - lovely surroundings and good walks. The children enjoyed the games and quiz - a perfect day"

and

"I think it was the best I've ever been to - Emily, age 7".

And best of all, I get to do it all again tomorrow! Pass the wine...

A Comments Selection Box

"The tea pots and milk jugs don’t pour properly – they just spill everywhere."

"How safe are the wooden floorboards outside the 4 poster bed room?"

(Hmm….well, they’re perfectly safe…)

"Superb exterior & grounds – interior very disappointing – much more needed as it takes minutes to look round! Please improve this."

(A personal favourite. The house is small. Only four rooms are on display. I am not quite sure how to change the laws of physics and make the house more TARDIS-like. )

"Where ever we travel up and down the land, stainless steel teapots always drip on the table! Yours are no different!"

"The walks are great if you walk the “correct” way round. If you go the opposite way it is not clear without a path map."

(This does not bode well for the author’s prowess at navigating major road systems. I mean, yes, the motorway is great if you travel the “correct” way round....)

"The small guide was one of the best I have had."

(I sincerely hope this is in reference to the informative leaflet, rather than my volunteer)

"Unfortunately the teapot doesn’t pour properly. Unfortunately the milk jug doesn’t pour properly."

It's hard to know how to respond to the dribbly teapot comments. We simply don't have the manpower required to test every spouted receptacle in the tea room for potential dribbliness. And, oh, how I long to reply as I would like to:

Dear Mr Hatstand. Thank you for your comment regarding the dribbliness of your teapot. I am sorry to hear of your disappointment with our tea-making paraphernalia. However, perhaps you could look upon this another way. If this is the worst thing that has happened to you today, you are truly fortunate. Take a moment to reflect upon how lucky you are! For if a leaky teapot is enough to ruin your day and drive you, ballpoint in hand, to the nearest comments card box, I dread to think how a major calamity - say a stubbed toe or a lost hat - would effect you. In the meantime may I take this opportunity to thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.

Yours sincerely,

Doris Sparrow

Visitor Services Manager