I’M probably one of the least religious individuals there is. However, on a Monday morning I recant a short prayer in which I urge the gods to give me a stress-free week. Halfway through my journey to work I get the inevitable ping as one of the staff calls in sick. The implications for me are great, because as a small enterprise

I end up trying to do two jobs at once, as well as all the forklift work during the morning break while the rest of the staff enjoy a coffee and a glimpse of the paper. If you ever have romantic notions about being self-employed then think very carefully as there are many long days, lots of pressure and a great deal of uncertainty.

Last Monday was different as everyone turned up and so it was ‘fingers crossed’ for a week where I could concentrate on running the business. But alas, this was short lived. Within an hour one of the staff was wandering around with a large bandage on his hand claiming he’d broken his fingers and had to go to hospital. I ushered him into the office and removed the bandage. Sawmill owners have to multi-task and while I’m no evangelist I know broken bones. After a short inspection it was clear that everything was fine and he was fit to continue. I considered, albeit briefly, a consultant role with the NHS where I could identify timewasters before they got through the front door. In any case, after a short pep talk and a bit of cajoling he headed back to work, just in time for the sawmill to come to a grinding halt.

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A little oval-shaped piece of plastic, intended to prevent you pushing two buttons at once, had jammed, holding the contactor in place. This drives the motor which nips the logs, and I realised the problem by the acrid smell of a burnt-out motor.

Of course, to do a proper job meant replacing the contactors and the wiring, but this is when you need an ice-cool mentality. A similar experience in the recent past resulted in that job being done three times and all the costs involved – I therefore decided to do it myself. It’s important in these situations to take your time and think things through, so after a short phone call ‘Saw Eurodrives’ despatched a motor the same day. I took me six hours to work it out as the new contactors needed wiring differently to the old, obsolete ones.

Fortunately I’d retained a lot of blocks to resaw and was able to move the workforce onto that task while I slowly and methodically worked out the new wiring diagram. In total the mill was only out of action for a day and a half. I often wonder how a lot of these bigger mills and factories manage with major breakdowns as my own experience is pretty dismal. Anything outside the box will provide most contractors with a problem and they seem to find any opportunity to leave.

My six hours of painstaking analysis was clearly time well spent, especially as the following day I had a light-bulb moment. The main control box for the mill needs replacing, which will cost a great deal in both time and money, but if I strip and rewire the old box I can get rid of 75 per cent of the existing components. I can then split the contactors so that in the event of a breakdown you don’t suffer secondary damage. I can then fit each circuit with an RCD overload rather than the overloads which are connected directly to the contactors and never seem to work.

This would be safer, quicker to repair and most importantly, a lot simpler.

My logic is ... yes, the mill is getting old, but if I replace the last bit of complicated wiring and spend money replacing wearing parts then it will still be old but at least it will be strong, productive and reliable. I suppose I’m now of an age where I don’t want to be working every hour that god gives, and why should I? After all, machinery is supposed to make our lives easier and with a young and expanding family to consider I want to spend more time with them. It is time you can never have back. I suppose this brings us back to the ‘false’ romance of self-employment and the constant demand on one’s time.

Last year we struggled to get the wagon tested as the DVLA examiners don’t like to work after 2pm, and despite booking a test three months ago and I still haven’t received a date. It took me one day to fix a fairly complex problem, but after three months still no test date from the DVLA.

Away from work we have decided to have a long weekend in Cornwall, which is long overdue. With the mill up and running and orders flying out of the door after a long and very wet winter I’m hoping things might start to relax. The recent spring sunshine has certainly encouraged the market and the phone is constantly ringing with demand for anything and everything. I’m so glad we’re a small mill and not a merchant as we can cut most sizes of timber fairly easily and I would hate to have to rely on someone else supplying me. Much of our business is about filling in the gaps left by the big mills which generally don’t want the smaller, more bespoke orders. 

I was amused recently by someone suggesting I get a general manager. After everything I’ve just described can you imagine it? Who would sort out the technical repairs? Who would juggle the cutting list and keep the staff in order? Who would maintain discipline? It only takes one person to disrupt a happy ship. I was recently chatting to a colleague I’ve known and worked with for over 30 years and invariably the conversation came round to the ‘layabouts’ who frequented the woods in the days before harvesters. We were saying that we’d worked on sites where 20 cutters were employed and come Monday morning only a few turned up.

We called this the ‘Monday morning blues’. Then, there were the weather dodgers.

I recall a job on which several people were employed and I worked for weeks in the snow by myself. However, we both agreed the most annoying people were the moaners. It didn’t matter how good or bad a job was, a moaner could destroy morale and kill production. The intriguing thing about these people was they were so thick skinned that nothing seemed to affect them. It didn’t matter how rude you were to them as nothing registered. Over the years I’ve tried various approaches like ignoring them, being rude and being openly hostile but nothing ever worked.

I say this because recently we had one such individual whom I had to take to one side. He’d taken to shouting to colleagues while the machinery was in operation.

You know when you have the urge to punch someone on the nose but clearly you aren’t going to follow that course of action? Shouting above the noise is a non-starter because most people are wearing ear protectors and it is very distracting and could cause a serious accident. Despite my asking him to stop, he continued and it reached a point where people were starting to make mistakes, hence the reason for my dark thoughts of nose punching. I’m pleased to report that after giving him a stern talking to, the mill has resumed its gentle hum of production with people quietly going about their tasks.

Meanwhile, at home I have to face the prospect of constructing flatpack products – the box contained a trampoline and the instructions clearly stated that the construction process should be no longer than 90 minutes. Four hours later ...
What was even more embarrassing was that I’d invited a friend round for a BBQ as thanks for helping to TB test my cows and he ended up having to help me.

Complex electrical problems are no problem, but flatpack furniture and BBQs are another issue.