Showing posts with label raven magical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label raven magical. Show all posts

Sunday, 2 July 2017

Guest Post - Admin

Today my dad guest blogs about one of his most favourite subjects, "Admin".  I should explain that Admin is a term that my dad uses not just for paperwork, but also for all of those little processes and procedures followed in every day life.

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Thanks to stevepb for the image


So, to Admin.

Only they could do it. It is beyond the scope of most mere mortals to comprehend, but admin are 'different', like chalk and cheese, they see a different world to the rest of us.

For example, if you yourself lived in these parts, I dare say you would call North Ferriby Infant School (Church of England) -

North Ferriby Infant School (Church of England)

- or some close approximation thereof.

As the saying goes, it does what it says on the tin, the name would be descriptive in an entirely sensible manner and good folk who deserve to breathe air would know exactly what you were talking about!

Ah, but Admin, ah no, for them common sense is forbidden - unless it is specifically demanded and detailed in official guidelines because, presumably if normal people understand what you are saying despite official guidelines and admin jargon, well you have clearly failed miserably.

So, the above mentioned school has a sign outside which proudly states to one and all "Welcome to the KS1 Building"!

Excuse me? Only admin can have the slightest idea just what KS1 refers to.

I am bemused by the fact that despite guidelines, political correctness, admin jargon etc lingering traces of normality stubbornly persist amongst the office staff and the powers that be have decided that the rest of the world needs a sign welcoming them to the above abomination. (note: the school is excellent, it's the name that gets me - KS1 indeed!)

.. and someone was paid money for this decision!

NB Deliveries must not be made to the KS1 building, as another sign informs everyone, indeed no, deliverers of deliveries must find the KS2 building across the road!

Do normal people really talk like this?

Really?

PS I once enjoyed a friendly chat with an admin person, over a pint of alcoholic beverage or several. I somewhat outrageously enquired whether one was still permitted to scratch one's arse if the desire occurred, and he told me in all seriousness that this was still currently permitted. However, should I wish to scratch anyone else's arse, I would require a licence to do so. Either way, such activities must not be performed in public as the word 'arse' has erotic connotations and may cause uncontrollable urges in some individuals, and then only between consenting individuals.

Disclaimer: The word 'arse' mentioned above was only written down behind locked doors with both my feet in a bucket of cold water. This PC does not have an internet connection for fear of hackers, be they government or freelance, becoming over excited.


Why not pop over to my parents website, www.facebook.com/RavenMagical where they offer all kinds of magical and new age goodies!

Wednesday, 2 December 2015

Guest Post - New Boots

Today's guest post from my dad talks about his discoveries whilst purchasing footgear.

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Thanks to LJ- for the image



NEW BOOTS!

It was as documents go, small, restrained, brief even, not a 36 page instruction manual embracing 999 thousand words and in all honesty I really can't complain, such was its brevity.

A bare two A4 sides of instructions, an utterly trivial 1,562 words explaining the instructions, regulation, care, maintenance and use of 'A PAIR OF BOOTS!'

Now I hate to blow my own trumpet but I really thought that I had mastered 'How to wear a pair of boots' long, long ago, I seem to think them go on your feet?

Ah not so easy, it is assumed in this day and age that anyone buying a pair of boots may possess minus 'infinity intelligence', and all you would ever need to know about boots, and a lot more besides, would have to be spelt out to you, in great detail. What follows is but a taster.

To be honest, 'they' did assume that you knew how to put boots on your feet, so what else did you need to know? Well for a start, you MUST NOT clean the boots with Caustic Soda! (who in their right mind would ever ..... ?)

Indeed, when the boots are dirty, they insist that you must clean them (without Caustic!), allow them to dry naturally - forced drying is forbidden and you must store them in a cool, dry area when not in use, and most certainly not expose them to impacts exceeding 200 Joules or compression greater than 15,000 Newtons.

Perhaps unlike the average passerby in the street I do happen to understand a smattering of scientific type weird shit (aka jargon) having worked in a laboratory for twenty years, but precisely what in everyday terms a compression of 15,000 Newtons relates to is quite beyond me.

A falling brick? And from what height?

Oh no, I'm confusing Compression and Impact, bother!

Other fascinating information tells me that the upper leather and rubber sole are guaranteed for 10 years!

And that the 'manufacture' of the boots themselves is guaranteed for 3 years!?

(Deep breath) The safety footwear (boots) comply with the EC Directive of personal Protective Equipment (Directive 89/686/EEC) and meets the EU standard EN ISO 20345:2011. It features Metatarsal protection - no, I'm not making this up - Resistance to fuel oil and Resistance to inimical environments! (What?)

So if you find yourself in an Inimical environment, you had better know where your Protective Equipment (Directive 89/686/EEC)/EU standard EN ISO 20345:2011. boots are!

Oh and you have to wear a sock - one sock per boot! I kid thee not .... the boots aren't guaranteed if you don't wear socks!


Head over to www.facebook.com/RavenMagical for my parents mail order business offering all kinds of new age and weird and wonderful magical goodies!  But, unfortunately, not boots.

Wednesday, 21 October 2015

Guest Post - The Aging Population

Here's a guest post from my extremely young father Graham.

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THE AGING POPULATION.

Spot the idiot ... this is worrying.
I freely admit that I have a serious aversion to old age, I hate it passionately and I haven't even got there yet, not quite. Indeed I have been hating old age since I was young; it is not something I look forward to.

In a world where, if you pay any attention to gossip in general there seems to be a world shortage of hysteria, there are any number of people who will seize any excuse to run up and down screaming because someone, somewhere, has grown their first grey hair, developed a dicky knee or most lamentably discover that they can't remember someones name.

The fact that the lost name will come to you sooner or later, given half a chance and seemingly the less you worry about it, the easier it seems that the reluctant memory will return ... is no excuse for not panicking!

Why exactly we get brownie points for hysteria I have never quite managed to work out, but it does seem popular.

"IT MUST BE ALTSHEIMERS!" someone is screaming (possibly just in my own head, but it's sort of deafening all the same). The people who try to fix this malady in the real world and want more government funding have got some kind of excuse I suppose, but anyone else? (oh and the media of course, there would be very little News if it wasn't for Hysteria - ditto, Colouring, Slanting, Twisting and Tarting up mundane events)

Anyway, I had to buy tomatoes, from the farmer's market and buy them I did. Indeed, I chose the tomatoes myself, money changed hands, I put the change in my wife's purse and I strode off manfully leaving the tomatoes on the stall ....... !?

My wife, who is still sharp of mind and in command of her faculties was shopping by remote control in the car - it was raining heavily so being sensible she directed and pointed, and I heroically ventured forth hunting various delightful consumables.

Triumphantly I returned, wet but happy in the (false) knowledge that I had bought all the goodies we wanted. A quick trip home ensued and I unpacked our treasures - cream cake, check! Meat from the butchers, check! Sausage rolls, check! Tomatoes? Where, how? I searched the car, not a sausage and no tomatoes either!

When did I suddenly become so utterly air-headed?

No, better not tell me, I'm quite upset enough as it is. My instinct was to massage my head against the nearest brick wall for being so stupid. Do I need in-depth written instructions perhaps?

INSTRUCTIONS FOR PURCHASING OF TOMATOES.

1) Find Tomatoes, (well known salad item, they look like 'tomatoes' - if you don't know what tomatoes look like, just die now!)
2) Pay for tomatoes (Tomato vendors like this sort of thing)
3) PUT TOMATOES IN SHOPPING BAG! (you should have a shopping bag with you)
4) TAKE TOMATOES HOME!

NOTE. Take Special note of instructions 3 and 4 - without these the whole operation will be compromised!

Possibly a hard-hitting poster campaign would help

"HAVE YOU GOT YOUR TOMATOES?"

I can see that shopping lists in future will be mandatory!


Feel free to check out my parents Facebook page for information about their mail order business, Raven, through which they offer all kinds of weird and wonderful magical goodies - www.facebook.com/RavenMagical

Saturday, 11 July 2015

Guest Post - Dogs!

While I'm away on honeymoon, today's guest post by my father talks about their two rough collies, Maeve and China.  Be warned - sensitive subjects are discussed...


Three hairy things.


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PET'S CORNER. (person's of a sensitive nature should read no further!)

CLICK!
As you may, or not know, we have dogs, beautiful, fluffy, staggeringly hairy dogs, bitches which I prefer to males - as they can be less bothersome in some regards, sometimes. Rough collies. They are beautiful, gorgeous, lovely, cuddly and wonderful.

They are also vile, revolting, amazingly intelligent whilst simultaneously really astoundingly thick!

I suppose this means, they are DOGS!

Maeve for example, is a lovely creature, beautiful, intelligent and as I said above, 'as two short planks' (according to my completely accurate world view).

Possibly she is hormonal?

Maybe the cold weather has affected her sense of smell?

Whatever, she has gone through a period of eating ahem, non-edible, non-food stuffs which are regrettably associated with (probably) male dogs who share the same daily walking circuit. (ie 'droppings')

Having eaten the inedible not to mention unspeakable, she has proceeded to return home and vomit her guts up in various rooms of the house.

This has stimulated a severe urge in me to chase her through the house with various murderous implements whilst screaming "Die you stupid *$!&$!", or words to that effect.

I hasten to add, these violent brainstorms have been confined entirely to my head where they merely raise my blood pressure.

(Okay, just occasionally I may have said "Arrrgghhh!" in a loud voice.)

My wife, ever a calming influence in my life informs me that when she was young, one of the old sheep dogs in her village was known for eating coal and handkerchiefs, and the old farmer who owned it said they needed to train it to shit on the fire. She laughed and I didn't.

The dogs are aware that my saying "Arrrgghhh!" in a loud voice means that I am not at all pleased right now and Maeve, oh dear Gods, Maeve will try to eat the offending deposits in order to clean up. She then instantly feels most unwell and naturally vomits again - whilst being chased through the house as I attempt to stop her moving about.

This dietary aberration has made her very sick indeed.

The answer I have found is to keep her on a lead at all times when out walking.
She is not keen on the restriction but her health has improved remarkably since I started doing this.

I did try briefly letting her run freely again once she was better and blow me, the same problem arose again, so now she walks on the lead ever hereafter and all is well more or less.

Note. By chance I met a fellow dog walker whilst shopping at the supermarket the other day. We exchanged greetings, enquired as to each other's health and as always said "And how are the dog's?". We both related copious information concerning our canine pets and she told me that her dog never touches animal droppings, rather it eats compost given half a chance! Dogs, Why do they do it?

But I digress.

NICER THINGS (readers, you can look again now)

CLICK!

In the deepest depths of winter, which have just barely relinquished their grip upon us, we were driven to purchase a small fan heater for the games room as the night light method of heating just wasn't cutting the mustard as it were.

CLICK!

Being a modern, though basic cheapo model, fan heater it has a safety device built in so that should it fall over for whatever reason, it turns itself off.

This is welcome. And it goes

CLICK!

China, the other beautiful, fluffy, intelligent exasperating etc dog has not the slightest idea as to how to play with a ball in the garden despite much encouragement, but she has discovered how to play with a fan heater.

You nudge it and it goes "Click!"

NB You do not knock the heater over, no, no ,no!

You just nudge it, it goes "CLICK!" and you can nudge it again.
" CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!"

This gets mummies and/or daddies attention, which is amusing to a dog!

She has also learnt how to nudge Christine's right arm whilst she is working on the computer. This also gets mummies attention of the 'annoyed but also endearing' type, causing such comments as

"Oh China, yes we do love you, you are very nice, why don't you nudge daddy instead?"

China wags happily, the operation is a complete success.


Why not check out my parents business, Raven - they offer all kinds of weird and wonderful new age and magical goodies.  Head over to www.facebook.com/RavenMagical

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Guest Post - Folklore of Robin Hood's Bay

While I'm away on honeymoon, my dad Graham guest blogs today, talking about the folklore of a little fishing village called Robin Hood's Bay in North Yorkshire in the UK, one of his favourite places in the world, and has at least two extremely good pubs.  That last fact doesn't really have any bearing, I just quite fancy going to one of them.
My dad in one of the extremely good pubs, the Dolphin. Cheers!

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FOLKLORE OF ROBIN HOOD'S BAY...
Now in the old days, especially in rural areas you might just find your horse one morning, hag-ridden, sweating and quite exhausted. Clearly the witches had been abroad, riding egg shells across oceans, flying the airs on broomsticks and having a whale of a time on your horse.

We have no horses!

Actually, I’m pleased that we are horseless, I mean to say you start getting into hag-ridden horses and next thing you know Linger’s ghost is knocking on your door!

Terrible bad luck it is to see Linger’s ghost – I never seen him, honest sweetheart, and even if I did, which I didn’t, I’d still not see him, cross me heart etc gov’nor!

Linger’s ghost?

(for the uninitiated, Lingers ‘Ghost’ was firmly tied up with smuggling in and around Robin Hood’s Bay many, many years ago)

Well I for one be knowing nothing of any Linger’s ghost and that be the truth of it, but I did hear a tale once told to me by some stranger in the Inn one dark night. ‘Ee were a-shivering and a deathly pale colour he was, and he told me he’d seen this ghost all white and ghastly it were, standing looking out to sea up on the cliff tops. An it did a-see him and it gave out a terrible moan and did come for him to take his life an a drag him down into the deeply-dark waters.

Well, ‘e did run for ‘is life and didne stop still ‘ee reached the safety o’ the Inn.

He tole ‘is tale to any who would listen but none would say owt to him, save that it be bad luck to see Linger’s ghost and lest he wants to swim with the fish, he should keep ‘imself to imself in future and stay away from the cliffs at night, cos that be when Linger’s ghost comes a haunting.

Over a mug of ale old blind Jake said that he’d seen the ghost himself not a month ago up on the cliff tops, though everyone knows that’s nonsense, ol’ Jake be as blind as a bat.

Interestin though, the following day the excise men were about the village looking for smuggled goods and they did ask if anyone had seen Linger’s ghost abroad these past nights.

Sure enough no one had seen it – ‘tis bad luck to see Linger’s ghost … and if they did, only a fool would admit it. (like that young idiot Carson years ago, reccon’ed he’d seen the ghost and what happened? He were found at the bottom of the cliff – told ee it be bad luck)

Notes from an old book ….
Robin Hood’s Bay, or Baytown as the locals would have it, is a very strange place. There are men to be found in the local watering places who could buy up three or four of your fashionable city shops on a whim, and there be none of the paupers in the streets here, as so often found in the big cities.

This is a rich place!

I’ve often thought to myself, the modern Baytown does well considering there are only a handful of permanent residents living there now, businesses thrive, endless charity events are ran and if there be bugger all folk living there full time, they do darned well on it.

Of course, there’s no smuggling there now, there hasn’t been any smuggling known of associated with Baytown for .. oh, probably 20 years now!

Feel free to check out my parents mail order business selling all kinds of weird and wonderful magical goodies at www.facebook.com/RavenMagical

Friday, 3 July 2015

Guest Post - Hurry Hurry Hurry!

Here's a guest post from my dad Graham, about a very convincing leaflet he received a couple of months ago.

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HURRY, HURRY, HURRY!

‘Tis May bank holiday and an amazing full colour advert has just dropped through the letter box.

It’s most impressive I can tell you – exactly what I needed on bank holiday!!

DON’T DELAY! Everyone is to HURRY to the SPECIAL EVENT – ONE DAY ONLY – at the Parish Hall in some piddling little village I have never heard of.

Oddly enough, I couldn’t help thinking that the seriously impressive, full colour multi-page brochure didn’t somehow fit with the location of the event, but hey, what do I know?

Whatever, EVERYONE must hurry along there – ONE DAY ONLY! – and take all our unwanted gold, jewels and antiques for a FREE VALUATION!

And (this will astound you!) they will make you an ON THE SPOT CASH OFFER
For ALL your unwanted items WITH NO OBLIGATION!

Mrs P. Brown of ‘Northern England’
says “I never thought that my late husband's gold pocket watch and my Diamond engagement ring and wedding ring would be worth so much – I was so pleased when I got £100 for them!”

But remember people, this SPECIAL EVENT is for just ONE DAY ONLY (‘cos we have to move to another area real fast!)

To assist the hard of thinking, lots of full colour photos were presented to show you just the sort of things that could be worth REAL MONEY!

(did anyone think they were offering fake money?)

You wouldn’t have guessed, GOLD, DIAMONDS, VICTORIAN GERMAN DOLLS, EXQUISITE HAND CARVED FURNITURE, OLD PAINTINGS, RARE CHINESE POTTERY – all these and LOTS MORE could be worth HARD CASH!

Don’t risk sending your valuables through the post for cash – hurry to our special event and let us rob you blind face to face. It’s really easy!

Ahem ….

Sorry, this advert just screamed ‘RIP OFF’ at me.



(Note from Mike - I remember getting a leaflet through the door at my old house from someone wanting to buy virtually anything you might have.  We were getting ready to move house and had a load of furniture that we felt was worth selling rather than having to pay someone to move, and so rang the number on the leaflet.  When he arrived it became immediately clear that the only thing that he was interested in was jewellery, despite having a long list of things, including furniture, on his leaflet.)

Feel free to check out my parents mail order business selling all kinds of weird and wonderful magical goodies at www.facebook.com/RavenMagical

Monday, 13 January 2014

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

First off, I have to suggest that you check out the latest post on my mum's blog here.  She's written about my adventures with the Royal Mail, where one of my parcels was intercepted and sent to Belfast.  If I disappear suddenly, know that the security services have acted.

Secondly, if you're reading it right now (as in when I've just posted it), you have but a handful of minutes to get to http://www.twitch.tv/el_pinata and join in with the very funny and entertaining retro gaming "Garlic Bread Monday" live stream by Scott Tumilty.  Go now.

Still reading?

Okay then!

Inspiring is a word that I worry is used far too often.  And more often than not, in some sort of "fluffy" context.

"Oh my, isn't that sunrise inspiring!"
"Ooh! That mirror is so inspiring!"
"Man, that hot coffee kick is really inspiring!"

I am generally cynical when it comes to inspiration.  If you want to do something, do it.  Be aware that whatever it is - writing a book, getting your dream job, running a marathon, swimming the English Channel - is probably not going to be quite as wonderful as you imagine.  Writing a book is a long hard slog.  Your dream job might not work out to be as great as you think.  And the hours spent training for a marathon or swimming the channel aren't all going to be wonderfully joyous.

But that's not to say that you shouldn't try.  Do try, try with all your heart.  Because the one thing you otherwise get stuck with is regrets.

Anyhow, I have to say that The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is inspiring.  The Ben Stiller film is actually the second remake of the original 1939 story by James Thurber, and looks at an introvert forced to go outside of his comfort zone and travel the world in search of a photograph.  It is really very good (despite mixed reviews) and well worth watching.  Special mention has to go to Ben Stiller and his acting in the lead role - you would hardly credit that it is the same person playing the character from beginning to end, such is the change in his personality.  It's been out a little while now, so if you want to catch it in the cinemas, go soon.

Tuesday, 12 November 2013

And lo...

Today we have a guest blog from my dad, about feeding dogs raw meat.  I probably need to give some disclaimer at some point - um, okay.  I am in no way instructing you to feed your animals raw meat, in case something bad happens.  And I'm sure vets are very good.  This post is included for its entertainment value.  Which is considerable.

That being said, if you are on the look out for some decent Christmas/Yule presents, I'd recommend heading over to my parents Facebook page, and giving them a message asap with your postal address and a request for a free catalogue.  They do all kinds of weird and wonderful stuff, like gemstones, jewellery, incense, charm bags, moon diaries, candles, totem stones, books... the list goes on and on.  They're mail order only (well okay you can ring them and order) and there is just the two of them running the business, so if you want something unusual and unique as a present for someone you'd best off get a catalogue as soon as possible and get ordering!

Dad - over to you!

Greetings dear reader, I trust you are well. On occasion in the past I may have regaled you with tales wild and varied, of violent awakenings of a befuddled soul fresh from their bed standing in something unmentionable before the sun has risen upon the day, or have read of the home truths of hairy canines, who be they beautiful, lovely, loyal and loving, are all at one in the same time, still dogs! And on this occasion a unique occurrence presented itself to the writer of tales so I bid thee be of good and hearty spirit, and prepare for amazement …

And lo, the wolves didst look up the sheep of many heads, and the sheep didst gaze back at they, as only the silent dead can do, and the wolves were confounded, and they did look to one another in bewilderment, and then did turn their eyes to their mistress as if to say “What the?”

So it was that one of the breeders pups had eaten a plastic bag with dire consequences – Colitis. In essence, it was crapping blood persistently and far from well. The vet recommended steroids for possibly the rest of its life, a diagnosis of considerable benefit to their bank balance (there’s nothing like guaranteed repeat business, right?) The breeder, who knows more about her breed than probably any vet alive and most other people in the world, knew well enough that the poor creature would not develop properly if kept on steroids – sometimes these drugs are unavoidable, but you need to be off them as soon as possible - so another answer was needed.

Much research and talking with other canine experts in many far flung countries was done and an unusual answer was suggested – raw meat, or rather raw carcasses.
The pup really didn’t want to eat its normal food which is cereal based and so in for a penny etc, raw chicken wings were offered to the dog. Amazingly the pup was more than interested and devoured the wings. The breeder knew full well that bitches who have just recently given birth do well with raw chicken to help them recuperate, and that the new mum’s always try to offer the carcasses to their new pups, which seems a little odd … but maybe they instinctively know what is best?

So this was the food for several days and amazingly the bleeding ceased. After some time the cereal diet was tried again but this brought a resumption of bleeding and was quickly stopped. Apparently the cereal diet caused bleeding, but raw bones and meat didn’t?! An unexpected but a welcome outcome.

Further research suggested that raw carcasses are indeed recommended for this breed of dog (Rough collies) and to cut a long story short, a supplier of chicken carcasses was found and now all the dogs at the kennels (around 30 at present) eat the new diet and to excellent effect. An unexpected side effect is that all dog’s are now worm free and without any form of ‘worm doom’ treatment. Apparently the diet changes the pH balance of the stomach and worms don’t thrive in such conditions. Not what one would have expected, but all to the good.

All most excellent, all dogs now eat chicken carcasses and also tripe, and love it to boot.

But what of sheep’s heads?

Ah well, it only seemed right that the search was ongoing for variations of food carcasses and upon visiting a trade butcher known to the breeder, she was delighted to see sheep’s heads for sale. They were a bargain I must tell you, less than £1 each, and she did speak with the butcher and ask for some sheep’s heads.

Certainly madam, how many would you like (he thinks, she will want one, for a laugh)

Twenty six please.

Certainly madam, erm twenty six? What are you going to do with them?

Feed them to the dogs!

Picture if you will, these are sheep’s heads. Take a sheep, remove the head part and that is what you have got – fur, eyeballs, horns, the lot!

Some time later twenty six sheep’s heads arrived at the breeders and she took them to the dog’s enclosure and ‘deposited’ them. And lo the dog’s were amazed!

And they did look at the sheep’s heads, and the sheep’s heads did look back at them. And the dog’s looked at the breeder as if to say “What the?”

The breeder did wonder if there was going to be a pile of rotting heads in the enclosure thereafter. The dog’s sniffed the sheep’s heads, prodded them, and looked about as if not knowing what to do.

The breeder went to bed a-wondering which colour wheelie bin was most appropriate for disposing of twenty six sheep’s heads.

But amazingly, the curious canines continued to ‘investigate’ the strange arrival in their compound, and the following morning when she went to the enclosure, of sheep’s heads there were none to be seen! Jaw bones, horns and the occasional bit of wool being blown about. All else had vanished completely, tongues, brains, eyeballs, skulls, the lot!

And yes, the dog’s are fine!

Stirred on by the wondrous tale we decided to buy ourselves a chicken and, well chop the bits off that we wanted – breasts and legs – and offer the remains to our two fluffy creatures Maeve and China.

Dad and dogs.  I'm fairly certain the only way he got them both to sit like this was with food.

Maeve, looked at us as if to say “Eh?” She sniffed, prodded, mouthed a small piece …… tried to be attentive as she could, as this was obviously her main meal of the day, but no … what, you expect me to eat it?!

China is a different sort of creature. When she found that she had been given half a chicken carcass she gathered it up and disappeared to find somewhere secluded to eat her prize. We have never known her do this ever before, but hey, apparently this was her birthday and she loved her ‘pressy’.
A few bare minutes later she came back downstairs from the bedroom and took intense interest in the delicious offering which Maeve was ignoring. In an effort to help Maeve along I chopped up all her carcass into bite sized pieces, which was a complete waste of time, no way was she eating that rubbish.

China looked pleadingly, she knows full well that she isn’t supposed to steal Maeve’s food and she looked genuinely surprised when we said “Go on then China, you can have it!”

A few short minutes later every morsel had vanished, the plate licked clean and a very happy dog settled down on the sofa.

And she was fine, no problems of any kind; we haven’t seen China so happy for a long time


NB Apparently chicken carcasses are ok for dogs but they must be raw – cooking makes the bones brittle and likely to shatter into sharp pieces.  

Sunday, 23 June 2013

Using an ATM aka an "Hole In The Wall"

Hi!

There appears to be some confusion as to how to use an ATM, as whenever I go to use it I'm inevitably stuck behind someone who takes approximately a week to prod buttons, insert cards, and generally mess around.

Step one: As you approach the ATM, have your card ready.  Don't wait until it's your turn to rummage around in your wallet/purse/carrier bag to find it.
Step one: Again, before it's your turn, decide how much money you are going to withdraw before you actually reach the ATM.  Remember the card goes chip side up, with the chip end first into the machine.
Step two: When you actually get to the machine for your turn, the moment the machine is ready to accept your card, insert it.
Step three: Enter your PIN number.  Hit the enter key if it asks you to.
Step four: Ignore all of the options - you are allowed to pick either Cash, or Cash with Receipt.  This is an ATM, not an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant.
Step five: Choose how much money you want.  Preferably pick one of the standard options instead of typing in the exact amount you want, it's quicker.
Step six: Take your card, then your money.
Step seven: Leave.  Do not put your card & money into your wallet/purse etc until you are out of the way and the next person can use the ATM.

In this way you can complete your usage of the ATM in about 20-25 seconds, unlike the average of around forty minutes which it seems to take whoever it is in front of me.

To be fair it's partially the fault of the ATM programmers - ever since they made it possible to top up your phone or pay your newspapers via the ATM it tempts people to spend more time using them (hence Step four) and I accept that you might not want to do step seven if you're worried about being mugged, but in that case have your wallet etc ready to put the money in as soon as it comes out of the machine.

My parents have started a new blog for their business at http://ravenmagical.blogspot.co.uk/ - they've been running a Facebook page for a while (www.facebook.com/RavenMagical) which has been going really well and I strongly recommend - it isn't the usual type of business facebook page, they fire you off a little bit of information about today and what special day it is, for example the 19th of June was "World Sauntering Day" which sounds to me more like something that should be done over thirty hours rather than the usual twenty four.

Anyhow, my mum wanted somewhere to put longer pieces of text up for people to read, hence the blog was born.  If you are in the UK and are interested in their selection of weird and wonderful magical supplies, remember they send a free catalogue out - probably simplest is to contact them by sending a message via Facebook with your postal address.  I believe that you also get a free gift token to use with your first order!
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