Where has my website address gone?

 Once upon a time, I had a blog.

I enjoyed blogging, and after a while decided to splash out on a website name.

I won't hyperlink it, but it was www.mikeraven.co.uk

But when I took a break from blogging, I decided to cancel the web name.  I wasn't doing the blog any more, so why keep paying for the domain name?  It wasn't as though any income from the blog was paying for the domain name.

Now, of course, when I try to get the domain back, it's owned by someone else.  Not that they're doing anything with it, there's a few general adverts if you go to that address. But I can't find a way to buy it back.

So - relaunched website calls for a new web domain!

Welcome to thog.uk :)

And welcome to the chocolate digarinut!

The Relaunch of the blog

Hello!

I vaguely remember doing this blogging thing. I used to do it quite a lot, in fact.  Good for stretching the writing muscles.

Why did I stop?  I''m struggling to remember, to be honest.  I think I was finding that I didn't really have anything to write about, and neither did I have the urge.

That is changing!

I'm working on a book.  Now ideally, what I would like is for an agent to contact me out of the blue (via email, no one wants a phone call), tell me how amazing I am, and to set me up with a huge publisher who would give me a six-figure advance for a book of whatever length and quality I decide to churn out.  Unbelievably, this has not happened to date!

I'm working on a collection of short stories.  The stories vary in length and topic, but have one common element.

Immature humour.  Crude, you could call it.  And again, no matter how hard I search on literary agents websites, none of them seem to be looking for this.  Nevertheless, the success of games such as Cards Against Humanity and Joking Hazard (both of which I love) makes me feel that there is an audience out there somewhere.

So, I'm going to try to bring this old blog back to life with the shameless aim of building an audience of bloodythirsty billionaires desperate for a book stuffed full of with stories such as "Charles, the dog that couldn't stop licking" and "Chantelle the Juicy Sausage".

Hopefully it'll become a stocking filler for that relative with questionable taste you have (and if you don't have a relative with questionable taste, it's you)

The Cat in the Car Park

 I drove into the works car park today, circling as I looked for a decent space (ideally a space with adjacent spaces empty, and somewhere that would be sheltered from the non-seasonal sun we are experiencing in the UK at the moment), and glimpsed what appeared to be a cat in a car looking at me.

I was so taken back that I had to circle around the car park again, even though I risked losing my cherished spot.

This is what I saw:

That would be the buttons on a black coat.

In other news, I've started writing a series of short silly stories that I'm going to post on here and on YouTube / TikTok (yes I know) - they're going to be strange, and not safe for kids!

Have a good Monday :)

Time Travel, at a speed of 1440 minutes per day!

Past Mike left Current Mike a pack of four mince pies in his car as a nice surprise for when he got in it!  I love me :D

2019 and the Skatepark

It's 2019.

It's not just 2019, it's well into 2019.  It's been something like five months since I blogged.

About time I wrote a post then.

It's been busy here, mainly because we moved house back in November, and we haven't paused to catch our breath really since then.  We've moved into a little village in East Yorkshire, which is better for my son to get to school, and had also provided my wife a little more desperately needed room in order to support her burgeoning needle minder activities.

As for myself, I've been working and doing stuff round the house.  An interesting side effect of a larger house is that I now lose stuff because I forget how many rooms we've got - more than once I've stomped around looking for something before realising that we've now got a utility room to put stuff in.

Anyway, I'm blogging because I've got something nice and embarrassing to blog about.

This weekend we've been visiting family in Lancashire, which has been very nice, and this morning, my son decided that he wanted to go to a skatepark with his scooter. This is an entirely normal occurrence, recently he's been on the scooter a lot, to the point where we've bought him a new scooter as his old one was getting a little small, and I've even purchased a skateboard for myself to accompany him (although I've not dared to go outside with it yet, I am contenting myself with falling over in the hall whilst next to a wall).

The essential kit for a skater boi.

Anyhow, we went to the skatepark, and my son was scootering around, having fun, and I decided to warm up a little (it was chilly and I hadn't taken a jacket) by running around a bit, and seeing if I could climb up one of the ramps.  There was a few curved ramps, and one particularly high one.

Well, it took me a couple of goes, but eventually I managed to get up the highest ramp, with a good run and jump at the end.

And what do you do when you're at the top of a ramp?

Well, you come down it, of course.

Not having a scooter or a board with me, the natural thing (to me anyway) is to slide down it, as shown in the GIF below.

I've done this any number of times, but this time, it felt different.

It stung.

And that would because I've done it so many times in these jeans, this time the jeans gave way.

I retreated to the car to inspect the damage, and sure enough, there was a good three or so holes straight through the jeans, in the... "seat" area, shall we say.

Fortunately my wife is a keen cross stitcher and had brought her kit with her, so we sat in the car for half an hour while she tried to undo the worst of the damage.

Nevertheless, one of the worst holes reopened as the day went on, and I found myself in a market looking through fabric samples to see if I could patch it.  I purchased a couple of leather rectangles for future repair, but for the time being, I resolved to close the hole again with a spot of sewing.

To this end, I bought a reel of what I thought was black but turned out to be brown cotton from the market.  Of course I couldn't find where the reel started so I took to ripping the reel apart until I teased out a length of thread long enough to be of use.

The reel didn't do so well.

All repaired, I went about my day, sore but at least not exposing myself to strangers and relatives.

I did try later to prepare the leather rectangles for patchwork, and I had the bright idea of making holes in the rectangles first in order to ease the sowing.  Not having a leather punch, I naturally resorted to a drill.

Pro-tip: Drills don't work on leather.

What instead happens is the leather wraps itself around the drill bit, which heats up and adheres the leather to the drill in a gluelike fashion, meaning that you have to reverse the drill and pull the leather off while swearing.

I dread to think what will happen when I go to the park next time.

The Cheese Grater Explained

It's Sunday morning, which means I have a slice of time free to write!  To create, to make something new, the activity of generating ephemeral ideas and translating them into the written word.

Or you could just stage photos of writing, to avoid actually having to do it.

Anyway, today I wish to embark upon an explanatory text, to educate one and all upon the humble cheese grater.

The cheese grater is something that we all own, and quietly sits in our homes, ready to be called upon when needed.  Yet is it truly understood?

Today I will share with you my expertise on my very own hexagonal cheese grater, and in particular the uses of the six different sides.

Here we go!


SIDE ONE: Big Holes.

This is the standard size to be used at all times.  It is used to make large gratings of cheese, ideal for putting on a sandwich, toastie, and pretty much anything else you want grated cheese for.



SIDE TWO: Small Holes!

This is the side used when you have guests and you want your food to look slightly nicer than normal.  You get smaller gratings of cheese than if you used the big holes, so it takes longer and therefore is less pleasant.


SIDE THREE: The Slicer!

Allegedly used for slicing cheese, no one in history has ever used this side, because, to misquote James Acaster, when you want a slice of cheese your first thought is not the grater.


SIDE FOUR: The Slicer's Identical Twin!

As though having one side made up of slicers isn't enough, there's an identical twin on another side.  This makes me wonder if people are as gross as I suspect, and rather than washing up the grater after using the slicer (as if anyone ever does), they decide to leave it because there's a totally unused and clean side still to go.


SIDE FIVE: The Finger Killer

God only knows what this side is used for, with its mixture of holes and sticky up bits, but if you ever thought that grating cheese using the side with the big holes is dangerous to your fingers, you haven't tangled with this one, which is especially designed to trick your fingers into exposing themselves before ripping a chunk off.

If a grater was conscious and wanted to eat a human, one finger at a time, this would be its mouth.


SIDE SIX: Angry Nipples

To round off this exploration of the cheese grater, the last side seems to consist of approximately seventeen million furious barbed nipples that, when in the vicinity of cheese (or anything else for that matter), clutch onto the dairy product and tear it into a thousand pieces.



Thank you for your time.

(If you enjoyed this - or even if you didn't - why not see the photos from the earthquake I survived earlier this year?)

My Day

I've been challenged to write one of these "My Day" posts, which have been doing the rounds.  Typically it's about a hipster-type who spends their day exercising, meditating, squeezing fresh orange juice from cows and doing something odd like having a curried Orangina to keep their energy levels up.

So, here we go.

3am: I wake up and think about the inevitable approach of death. Or biscuits. Biscuits are more likely, really. If I choose to glance at the bedroom door there is every chance that my son is stood there looking at me, and if I make any sign that I am awake he will jump on me. It's a great chance to practice my stealthiness.

3.10am: I fall asleep again.

5am: I wake up by being poked in the eye by a small child. I find this rapidly brings me to complete wakefulness far quicker than the stereotypical "waking up naturally", saving me precious time.

5.10am: I spend the next hour catching up with the world by going on fifteen different social media channels on my phone, one after another. On none of them do I have any notifications.

6.10am: I sit down at my computer for a session of creative writing.

6.25am: I realise that I've spent fifteen minutes looking at a blank Word document whilst playing Words With Friends on my phone. I mean to say that I've been sharpening my English language skills.

6.30am: I ruminate on what food to put in my packed lunch. I find packed lunches far healthier than whatever you can buy, and really gives you chance to include energy boosters like organic fruit, chia seeds, and quinoa.

6.35am: I've packed leftover pizza and a dodgy looking banana.

7.45am: Time to get those vocal chords into action! There's nothing like a good vocal warm up by screaming "GET DRESSED! SOCKS! SHOES!" over and over. I don't worry about the volume because I'm never heard over my sons tablet anyway.

8.30am: At work, full of energy and raring to go.

8.32am: My energy levels are dropping, so I get a vitality boosting bacon and egg sandwich.  I add tomato sauce to help towards my five a day.

10.00am: Someone fetches me a scone.  I always make sure to get a sweet scone (never savory) like dark chocolate and cherry. At this rate I've virtually had all the fruit and vegetables I need for the day.

12.00pm: Time for lunch, and to give my lunch an exciting twist, I grab some extra steps by walking to the chip shop.  Always make sure to add "chip spice" to your chips, the paprika comes with amazing health benefits, such as aiding sleep.

1.00pm: I'm really tired. Time to boost my energy levels with coffee.

1.10pm: More coffee.

1.20pm: More coffee?

1.30pm: EVERYTHING IS FANTASTIC AND AMAZING AND I'M GETTING SO MUCH WORK DONE ITS UNREAL I THINK I'LL HAVE A COFFEE.

5.30pm: Work is over and I spend the drive home unloading my mind whilst eating a Crunchie.

6.20pm: Dinner is served.  I always look for a healthy option such as grilled chicken and rice. Except for Tuesdays because that's when we have pizza.  Whilst eating dinner I watch some Downton Abbey to unwind.

6.25pm: Fall asleep in front of the TV.

7.30pm: Wake up. Rewind the DVD.

8.00pm: On an evening, when the brain is naturally less creative, I relax with a walk.

8.10pm: Funnily enough, whilst on my walk, I appear to find myself stood outside a pub. I do feel that it's so important to support local enterprises.

11.33pm: skweuimcal;c

11.55pm: KEBabs r 'mazing gaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

12:40pm: Howw do u work the lock in teh front dorr?????? Askin 4 frend. xc

I hope that the above is of use to you, I am available for the delivery of seminars and workshops at a very reasonable rate on the topic of how to change your life. Not necessarily for the better, that's why my rate is so reasonable :)

Taking Photos

I love waking up early on Sunday mornings.  They're usually the quietest time of the week, when everyone else is asleep, and I can potter away doing chores (or, more likely, muck about on the computer).

This morning when I got up the sunrise was giving some interesting colours to the sky, and so I decided to pop out and take some photos by the river.

Obligatory "the camera is turned round the wrong way - oh well, I'll take a photo anyway" shot

Most of the photos are of the Humber Bridge, which I wrote about a couple of years back when it was Bridge Day (interestingly Bridge Day is coming up again soon - possible source of content for bloggers!), in short the bridge is the fifth longest single-span suspension bridge in the world, linking the north and south banks of the River Humber together.

Bridge

Bridge

Bridge from a different angle

Not a bridge

Bake Off Returns

Bake Off is back.

The Great British Bake Off is an institution, must-watch television. It's the most bizarre thing, in a way - get a group of generally middle-class, affable individuals in a big tent, make them bake difficult things, and then let two judges, one an evil monster who could capture your soul with a thought, the other effectively being your grandmother, complete with unending friendliness but the ability to express infinite disappointment should you not live up to expectations.

Add to this a weekly elimination and it's completely and utterly addictive. Especially when accompanied by several cans of John Smith's laced with Jagermeister.

It's maybe because we all think we could do that. Regardless of whether you're skilled in the kitchen or not, you think that with the right recipe and ingredients you could make a reasonable fist of at least a Victoria sponge or some sausage rolls (man, I'd love a flaky sausage roll right now...).  When you're watching X Factor, or Britain's Got Talent, unless you are one of that those minority who actually have talent, or one of the slighter larger proportion of the population that thinks they do, you can't connect to it because you couldn't actually be up there singing/dancing/eating an elephant blindfolded.

The crisis caused by the move from BBC to Channel 4 seems to have settled down now. As much as I like Mel and Sue, and I've always liked them, for me Noel Fielding has been a pleasant surprise. When I first saw some of his work he was a bit too random and surreal for me, but in Bake Off he's odd yet friendly, a real delight.

So, here's to a couple of months that will be improved by Bake Off :)