Oy oy me old muckers... how's tricks?
I always take me humans for a nice long walk on a Saturday... usually Braid Valley Park (in the river), through the Hermitage of Braid (in the river), across the observatory through Grange and down to Holyrood where I swim in the conveniently placed doggy swimming pools, where I usually get me picture taken by my adoring fans... or tourists to you.
Oh, the things I do for the Edinburgh tourist industry.
Now, I have to say, me humans sometimes get the hump with me 'cos the journey takes a bit longer than it should.
That's because I have to check me emails on the way round. It's not my fault they misinterpret this as sniffing lamposts, wheelie bins, other bins, walls, gate posts, sometimes people, columns, park benches, rocks and railings.
But if some dog has been good enough to leave a message then it's the very least I can do to read it and then reply, although I have to say that replying at the end of the walk when I can only squeeze out a few drops is more difficult than at the start when me bladder is full.
Anyway, I can't see what they get so annoyed about. I often hear me human Renee saying to me other human 'what are you doing now?'
The reply might be a variety of things: 'texting me mates' or 'checking me emails' or 'responding to an email from...' or 'reading the news.
I mean, that's not annoying is it?
And then it happens in reverse and Renee is on her 'phone looking at Facebook or Twitter and it's Richard's turn to ask what she's up to.
How often, you important people out there, are you in a meeting and someone has put their 'phone on silent but haven't switched off the vibrate? Now that's annoying. Do you ever do it to anyone else? Get half way through a nice chat and then start looking at your 'phone?
No?
Not sure I believe you and I'm certainly going to keep checking my messages!
Wednesday 26 September 2012
Monday 27 August 2012
Are you Hubbed up?
Me human Richard, along with some chums, has set up another new business...
Why he should want to do it is beyond me. He's already most un-woofer like with all his running around. He should learn to chillax more... rather like his furry friend. (That's me).
That's all by the by - he's set up this community based magazine... which has grown arms and legs and now encompasses loads of stuff.
So let's start at the top:
The magazine. It's an A5 job and I know what you're thinking, 'cos I was thinking the same thing meself: there are a few of these mags about. Apparently, this one is a bit different though. It carries more local interest stories than may be some other mags, with features on Local Heroes and Business Spotlights as well as other local stuff.
It looks good, too... although that's nuffing to do with Richard, that's all Colin at wwwgingersnapdesign.co.uk
It has to be said that advertising is pretty good value, too. That's because the team ain't trying to make money, just cover the costs.
And that's not all...
The mag is being backed up by a website as well. Apparently it's being built as we speak but you can see the latest mags on the site: www.thehub-community.com. The website will promote local businesses but will also have info about the location where you're based (so far there's Musselburgh and Corstorphine, but there'll be others, too). It's also going to have 'living history' pages: very exciting and more about that later.
There are other things in the pipeline: like an i-phone app and networking events for local businesses. But the point is: what do you want to see on a local site like this?
More doggy stuff I'd imagine.
Answers on a postcard or, better still, an email to richard@thehub-community.com
So let's start at the top:
The magazine. It's an A5 job and I know what you're thinking, 'cos I was thinking the same thing meself: there are a few of these mags about. Apparently, this one is a bit different though. It carries more local interest stories than may be some other mags, with features on Local Heroes and Business Spotlights as well as other local stuff.
It looks good, too... although that's nuffing to do with Richard, that's all Colin at wwwgingersnapdesign.co.uk
It has to be said that advertising is pretty good value, too. That's because the team ain't trying to make money, just cover the costs.
And that's not all...
The mag is being backed up by a website as well. Apparently it's being built as we speak but you can see the latest mags on the site: www.thehub-community.com. The website will promote local businesses but will also have info about the location where you're based (so far there's Musselburgh and Corstorphine, but there'll be others, too). It's also going to have 'living history' pages: very exciting and more about that later.
There are other things in the pipeline: like an i-phone app and networking events for local businesses. But the point is: what do you want to see on a local site like this?
More doggy stuff I'd imagine.
Answers on a postcard or, better still, an email to richard@thehub-community.com
Monday 23 July 2012
Do you know what... I've got into modelling recently.
Oh, I know I always look good but this professional modelling is different. It's almost like hard work. I mean, someone kept throwing me a sausage and then I'd have to hold a pose for ages... at least a second.
Why not look me up on Facebook, you can find me here:
http://www.facebook.com/barneytaxassist
I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave a message, ask a questions (I promise to answer in my doggy style) or simply Like the page.
Anyway, that's not really what I want to write about today. Nope, I have a different feline in me fur.
I live in Morningside and I have to say the walk through Morningside and Bruntsfield is one of me favourites. There are loads of local shops, smells, places to eat, The Meadows, Henriks Bar where they even let me humans in for a drink and lunch.
But I'm worried for the area and the reason I'm worried is... Sainsbury's.
It all started a few years ago with Tesco's on Holy Corner. No-one really noticed and actually one express store like that was probably a good thing. There's always the missing dental sticks and biscuits that need to be bought.
But then Peckhams, next door to Montpeliers, closed. There was a pause of a couple of weeks before the signs went up and then it became public... it was Sainsbury's going in there. I wasn't happy but, okay, I suppose one more of these mini supermarkets I could live with.
But now, they've taken the scaffolding down from the rebuilt building opposite the Canny Mann's and... OMG it's another Sainsbury's. We don't need another one!
How long before the local shops begin to feel the squeeze?
Now, I know they have to compete in the modern world and, of course they should. But they can't compete with laziness, even if they win hands down on service, quality and sometimes price. The problem is it's just so easy to whip into Sainsbury's. You know where everything is and you don't have to interact with anyone.
But please, peeps, make just a little bit of extra effort and keep using the local shops to make sure Morningside and Bruntsfield stay vibrant... we don't need another one of these express 'local' stores.
Oh, I know I always look good but this professional modelling is different. It's almost like hard work. I mean, someone kept throwing me a sausage and then I'd have to hold a pose for ages... at least a second.
Why not look me up on Facebook, you can find me here:
http://www.facebook.com/barneytaxassist
I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave a message, ask a questions (I promise to answer in my doggy style) or simply Like the page.
Anyway, that's not really what I want to write about today. Nope, I have a different feline in me fur.
I live in Morningside and I have to say the walk through Morningside and Bruntsfield is one of me favourites. There are loads of local shops, smells, places to eat, The Meadows, Henriks Bar where they even let me humans in for a drink and lunch.
But I'm worried for the area and the reason I'm worried is... Sainsbury's.
It all started a few years ago with Tesco's on Holy Corner. No-one really noticed and actually one express store like that was probably a good thing. There's always the missing dental sticks and biscuits that need to be bought.
But then Peckhams, next door to Montpeliers, closed. There was a pause of a couple of weeks before the signs went up and then it became public... it was Sainsbury's going in there. I wasn't happy but, okay, I suppose one more of these mini supermarkets I could live with.
But now, they've taken the scaffolding down from the rebuilt building opposite the Canny Mann's and... OMG it's another Sainsbury's. We don't need another one!
How long before the local shops begin to feel the squeeze?
Now, I know they have to compete in the modern world and, of course they should. But they can't compete with laziness, even if they win hands down on service, quality and sometimes price. The problem is it's just so easy to whip into Sainsbury's. You know where everything is and you don't have to interact with anyone.
But please, peeps, make just a little bit of extra effort and keep using the local shops to make sure Morningside and Bruntsfield stay vibrant... we don't need another one of these express 'local' stores.
Thursday 12 July 2012
Holiday - Day 5
The last day of our holiday dawned bright and clear...
No it didn't. It was dull and overcast. But at least it wasn't raining.
After our altercation with the Lindisfarne Inn and our extra night at the Black Bull in Wooler we had a bit of a drive to our starting point... which was the Lindisfarne Inn. The last part of the journey was the 6 or so miles from Beal across the causeway to the Holy Island.
Compared to our previous days, the walking was easy; a well maintained footpath all the way to the end of the causeway where the footpath promptly ran out.
The causeway opened to traffic at 9.45 in the morning after the tide subsided and we arrived at 10 - on foot - so there were still very large pools of sea water across the road... and lots of cars with drivers who seemed to want to drive through the pools at top speed and send a fountain of water over the edge of the causeway, or anyone who happened to be walking along it. Like us.
So began a cat and mouse game of dodgem. A quick look both ways and then a sprint to the other side of the pool before the closest vehicle could try and soak us.
The problem was I quite fancied a swim in the sea on either side of the causeway and I kept getting distracted just at the wrong moment. I'd slam on the ol' anchors, pull Renee to a complete stop and try to jump off into the sea... all the while with a car load of Italian tourists bearing down on us, hell bent on revenge for... well, something, 'cos we're all friends now!
Lindisfarne Island was bigger than I thought it might be and it took us another half an hour to come to the little village itself... and very nice it is, too. Especially the hotel where we had a jolly nice lunch in the garden. What actually made it nice was the fact that there was a umbrella over the table and it was now sluicing down with rain.
There was nothing for it... the rain wasn't going to stop, so it was a long 6 mile trudge back to the car. And there was a choice. We could either walk the long way round via the causeway, or cross the Pilgrim's Way: across the mud guided by nothing except a few poles sticking up out of the mud. Richard was all for it, but Renee decided to play safe after she saw one fella up to his eyeballs in goo.
It was the long way round for us. Well, it was alright for me humans: they were wearing waterproofs. All I had was a fur coat... and one that holds the water, I might tell you.
So, there we have it. 5 days of walking, adventure, a very sore bum, a broken ankle, a bitch and a soaking fur coat. Here's a link, in case you're interested: http://www.stcuthbertsway.net
Personally I wouldn't change a thing (apart from me bum) and I can't wait until next year. I reckon St Oswald's Way... 100 miles in 7 days.
You can find out more about Renee, Richard and me at www.taxassist.co.uk/reneemackay
No it didn't. It was dull and overcast. But at least it wasn't raining.
After our altercation with the Lindisfarne Inn and our extra night at the Black Bull in Wooler we had a bit of a drive to our starting point... which was the Lindisfarne Inn. The last part of the journey was the 6 or so miles from Beal across the causeway to the Holy Island.
Compared to our previous days, the walking was easy; a well maintained footpath all the way to the end of the causeway where the footpath promptly ran out.
The causeway opened to traffic at 9.45 in the morning after the tide subsided and we arrived at 10 - on foot - so there were still very large pools of sea water across the road... and lots of cars with drivers who seemed to want to drive through the pools at top speed and send a fountain of water over the edge of the causeway, or anyone who happened to be walking along it. Like us.
So began a cat and mouse game of dodgem. A quick look both ways and then a sprint to the other side of the pool before the closest vehicle could try and soak us.
The problem was I quite fancied a swim in the sea on either side of the causeway and I kept getting distracted just at the wrong moment. I'd slam on the ol' anchors, pull Renee to a complete stop and try to jump off into the sea... all the while with a car load of Italian tourists bearing down on us, hell bent on revenge for... well, something, 'cos we're all friends now!
Lindisfarne Island was bigger than I thought it might be and it took us another half an hour to come to the little village itself... and very nice it is, too. Especially the hotel where we had a jolly nice lunch in the garden. What actually made it nice was the fact that there was a umbrella over the table and it was now sluicing down with rain.
There was nothing for it... the rain wasn't going to stop, so it was a long 6 mile trudge back to the car. And there was a choice. We could either walk the long way round via the causeway, or cross the Pilgrim's Way: across the mud guided by nothing except a few poles sticking up out of the mud. Richard was all for it, but Renee decided to play safe after she saw one fella up to his eyeballs in goo.
It was the long way round for us. Well, it was alright for me humans: they were wearing waterproofs. All I had was a fur coat... and one that holds the water, I might tell you.
So, there we have it. 5 days of walking, adventure, a very sore bum, a broken ankle, a bitch and a soaking fur coat. Here's a link, in case you're interested: http://www.stcuthbertsway.net
Personally I wouldn't change a thing (apart from me bum) and I can't wait until next year. I reckon St Oswald's Way... 100 miles in 7 days.
You can find out more about Renee, Richard and me at www.taxassist.co.uk/reneemackay
Wednesday 4 July 2012
Holiday - Day 4
Oh the relief when I woke up and me bum wasn't going off like the landing light on an aeroplane.
So, we were good to go... Wooler to Beal and a slightly shorter day's walking today; only about 13 miles.
And the sun was shining, the birds were singing (and my bum wasn't) it was a lovely day for walking. It was easy going to start with and all three of us seemed to be enjoying it... Until we had to cross a field.
Alright, it wasn't the field that was the problem per se. It was the whacking great bull that some jolly old farmer had put in the field and what he was intending to do with the cows. No, that's wrong. It wasn't what he was intending to do with the cows it was actually what he was doing to the cows.
We stood at the gate in an agony of indecision mostly because the bull had finished and was looking around for another... well, you know what he was looking round for, and we didn't want it to be one of us.
Eventually we spied an escape route, squeezed under a fence, walked along a river bank and re-entered the field away from the amorous bull but right int he middle of a herd of cows and their calves. I never knew humans could run as fast as that... but they can.
By lunchtime we'd made it to St Cuthbert's cave... so called because 1,200 years before monks from Lindisfarne, fearing an invasion by the Vikings had high tailed with with the old boy's body and rested under and outcropping of rock.
It was sort of sobering, even for a woofer like me, to think that those monks has stood in that very spot all those years ago.
So, onto the last leg to the Lindisfarne Inn at Beal. Richard said he was ready for a pint and was therefore very disappointed when we got into an argument with the manager.
Lindisfarne Inn markets itself as dog friendly but I wasn't allowed in the bar, conservatory or even in the garden. I had to be locked in me room and they didn't even do room service.
Fair play to me humans; they were having none of this and immediately cancelled the room. Fortunately our car was parked nearby so we went back to the Black Bull (the picture on the pub sign looked suspiciously like the randy devil we'd almost been chased by earlier in the day) where we spent that evening... Very convivial it was, too.
Next week,q the final stage of the journey... Beal to Lindisfarne and don't forget to sent me your holiday stories: I'll post them on me blog for you. Send them to reneemackay@taxassist.co.uk
Wednesday 27 June 2012
Holiday - day 3
Oh dear... Oh dear - oh dear dear dear...
Me bum.
It wasn't agony as such; just very, very sore. Last night I eventually got some sleep after me human Richard wrapped himself in a sheet and lay on the bathroom floor with me. The lino was the only surface cool enough to give me relief.
So, the third day of me walking hols dawned with a decision to me made. Richard was all for walking for a third straight day, especially after the first two days were so successful.
I wasn't so sure myself and contrived to look all forlorn at every opportunity.
'Just look at him,' says Renee, me other human, 'we can't make him walk all day while he's like that.'
Hear, hear, thinks I, and as Renee wears the trousers and what I say, goes, we packed ourselves off to find a vet in Kelso about 20 miles away. It was pouring with rain anyway, so I couldn't really see the problem myself.
Anyway, the bus driver was very nice and, even better, the floor of the bus was very cool... A blessed relief for me backside.
So, in the vets I thinks to myself, 'hello Barney old lad, here's another one of those fellas who's going to have a poke around your nether regions.' And I have to admit that I got a bit agitated. Well, wouldn't you if a strange bloke was lifting your tail and rummaging around your gentleman's area?
'Razor burn,' said the young vet, who turned out to be not too bad. And promptly gave us cream and pills. So, on With the cream and down with the pill (I think we got it the right way round) and back on the jolly old bus to Melrose.
We picked up the other car and all moved to Wooler, our next overnight stop. By the time we arrived at The Black Bull it was late afternoon and time for a drink in the bar.
The locals were very friendly... they obviously knew each other well but included me humans in their conversations.
They we're all friendly except for one bitch... er... that's a female dog.
She growled at me something fierce and all because I thought I'd rub myself around her human. Jealousy is not nice in a bitch.
She had the last laugh, though. 'Hup,' says her owner and blow me if she didn't jump up on a bar stool and sit at the bar, for all the world like she was about to order a Babycham.
Very funny it was, too. It made me humans laugh, at least, but they're easily pleased.
Drop me a line if you have any holiday stories or visit me human's website at www.taxassist.co.uk/reneemackay if you want to find out more.
Next week, I'm back walking again - Wooler to Beal.
Wednesday 20 June 2012
Holidays - day two
Well, it was rise and shine bright and early on day 2 of me holidays.
Day 1 sees me and me humans walk the first part of St Cuthbert's way from Melrose to Mounthooly... A breezy 17 miles with only one broken ankle to report on the way.
Day 2 dawned a lovely day and we was off before 9... partly because we had another 17 miles to do but mostly because we were scared of the fearsome landlady of the 'rustic' B and B we were staying in.
It was lovely walking weather as we progressed along the last part of Deere Street - an old Roman Road which has been in continuous use for more than 2,000 years.
Me human Richard told Renee and me that and kept us hugely entertained with a string of really quite boring facts covering just about every subject we could possibly not be interested in.
Anyway, we were making good time when we encountered a different kind of beast than the woolly bleaters from the stay before. (Talking about bleating, it turned out that Richard's shattered ankle was no such thing and he'd forgotten about it... until, that is, Renee mentioned it, when it started hurting again. Strange that.)
Anyway, back to the creatures.
These ones were big, solemn, chewed a lot and had a strange bag dangling from their hind quarters. Most inconvenient it looked, too. For some reason these big ol' beasts excited me and I wanted to go an play; but I had to look after me human Renee who was looking very scared, so I kept her on her lead.
I have to say lunch in a place called Morebattle (which is nothing to with warfare, but probably to do with the ancient word for 'peat bog' (thanks, Dick (and I use the word advisedly)) was very good, but me bum was beginning to itch and then downright hurt. The only thing to give relief was sitting on it, jumping in a river or running about like a mad thing...
None of those things are easy to do all the time so it was a combination of all 3 that kept me going.
After lunch it was straight up Wide Open Hill 357 metres (where do you think that fact came from?) A tough climb but a great view and a descent into Town Yelthom (pronounced Yettum... so why don't they spell it that way?). The Plough Inn was good and there was a million dogs in the bar which would have been great if it wasn't for me bum which was really hurting by now.
We were early to bed because me humans, bless 'em, needed the rest.
But I was up in the middle of the night yelping because me backside was really smarting. The only place I could get it cool enough and stop it flashing like a Bolesha Beacon was the bathroom floor and even then Richard had to wrap himself in a sheet and lie on the floor with me before I could get to sleep.
Next week I'll tell you more about me bum and what happened on day 3 of me holibags. Do let me knlow what you think and send in your holiday experiences... I'll try to mention them in a future blog.
Thursday 14 June 2012
I've Been on Holiday
Hello me old muckers...
I haven't blogged for a couple of weeks because I've been on me holibags.
I took me humans on a walking holiday - we walked St Cuthberts Way from Melrose to Lindisfarne. Sixty five miles in 5 days. It was great fun although not without incident, so I thought I'd spend the next few weeks writing me diary of the adventure.
Here's part 1 for you:
Actually, the story starts before the holiday...
You see, I'm a somewhat hairy fella and sometimes that causes issues in me nether regions. I think the technical term is 'clinkers'. Nuff said?
Anyway, me humans had enough of the clinkers so they took me to the vet. Gawd, how I hate that bloke. And he gave me a shave.
The problem was he shaved me a bit close and it was very uncomfortable to have the wind blowing round me whotsits... so I kept sitting on 'em, to keep 'em warm, as it were. The problem was me humans mis-interpreted this as me backside hurting. It wasn't that at all... it was embarrassing!
Don't believe me? You cut a hole in the bum of your trousers and walk around for a day... then you'll see how embarrassing it actually was.
Anyway, we parked up in Melrose and then it was straight up the Eildon Hills. Me humans didn't slow me up too much, but I was running around a lot.
It was lovely; sun shining, fresh air, grass to roll in. The only fly in the ointment was that they did insist on being put on their lead everytime they saw those woolly things in fields... as though they couldn't trust themselves not to chase them.
Persoanlly, they didn't bother me much.
After lunch we turned on to the banks of the Tweed and disaster struck.
Richard was on his lead and I decided to investigate a bee that was flying around a flower. How was I to know he wasn't concentrating?
Mind you, the yell of pain as he twisted his ankle was truly impressive. He shouted so loud he actually dribbled. Pathetic.
Of course, he immediately told everyone that his ankle was sharttered in at least six places but he would walk on without complaining.
Ha!
There was more bleating than from those woolly things in the fields.
Anyway, despite his broken ankle (which miraculously recovered the next day) we tramped on to a place called Harestanes, where we were staying the first night... except we weren't... staying there I mean.
When Richard rang, the landlady told us we were still 3 miles away and we'd already done 14!
I shan't repeat what Renee said to him. Have you ever seen a Labradoodle with his fur standing on end? No? You would have done if you'd been there while I was listening to that exchange. Shocked I was.
Anyway... we made it. And very, erm, rustic, the B & B was, too. Nothing for it - an early night and hope the fur grows on me back end over night!
I haven't blogged for a couple of weeks because I've been on me holibags.
I took me humans on a walking holiday - we walked St Cuthberts Way from Melrose to Lindisfarne. Sixty five miles in 5 days. It was great fun although not without incident, so I thought I'd spend the next few weeks writing me diary of the adventure.
Here's part 1 for you:
Actually, the story starts before the holiday...
You see, I'm a somewhat hairy fella and sometimes that causes issues in me nether regions. I think the technical term is 'clinkers'. Nuff said?
Anyway, me humans had enough of the clinkers so they took me to the vet. Gawd, how I hate that bloke. And he gave me a shave.
The problem was he shaved me a bit close and it was very uncomfortable to have the wind blowing round me whotsits... so I kept sitting on 'em, to keep 'em warm, as it were. The problem was me humans mis-interpreted this as me backside hurting. It wasn't that at all... it was embarrassing!
Don't believe me? You cut a hole in the bum of your trousers and walk around for a day... then you'll see how embarrassing it actually was.
Anyway, we parked up in Melrose and then it was straight up the Eildon Hills. Me humans didn't slow me up too much, but I was running around a lot.
It was lovely; sun shining, fresh air, grass to roll in. The only fly in the ointment was that they did insist on being put on their lead everytime they saw those woolly things in fields... as though they couldn't trust themselves not to chase them.
Persoanlly, they didn't bother me much.
After lunch we turned on to the banks of the Tweed and disaster struck.
Richard was on his lead and I decided to investigate a bee that was flying around a flower. How was I to know he wasn't concentrating?
Mind you, the yell of pain as he twisted his ankle was truly impressive. He shouted so loud he actually dribbled. Pathetic.
Of course, he immediately told everyone that his ankle was sharttered in at least six places but he would walk on without complaining.
Ha!
There was more bleating than from those woolly things in the fields.
Anyway, despite his broken ankle (which miraculously recovered the next day) we tramped on to a place called Harestanes, where we were staying the first night... except we weren't... staying there I mean.
When Richard rang, the landlady told us we were still 3 miles away and we'd already done 14!
I shan't repeat what Renee said to him. Have you ever seen a Labradoodle with his fur standing on end? No? You would have done if you'd been there while I was listening to that exchange. Shocked I was.
Anyway... we made it. And very, erm, rustic, the B & B was, too. Nothing for it - an early night and hope the fur grows on me back end over night!
Tuesday 22 May 2012
I love living in Edinburgh
The authorities in Edinburgh are very thoughtful towards woofers like me...
You see, there are some really dirty pools, mostly stagnant, and streams running through Holyrood Park and I usually find me way into them when I'm taking me humans for a walk of a Saturday morning.
But it don't matter becaue some thoughtful fella has built some very nice and very clean doggy baths and stuck them right outside that parliament building.
I think it's a bit strange that me human Richard, when he takes a crafty look left and right and slips me collar off, shouts at the top of his voice 'no, no Barney, don't jump in the water' and then pushes me in the direction of the pool.
Last week I even had an audience, so I took one look and a huge run up, leaping in as far as I could go. I got a cheer. (You're not the only one, Pudsey!)
It was a bit perplexing when I came out and saw, out of the corner of me eye, a police officer walking slowly over shaking his head. I mean, the pools are clearly there for my use. I wasn't disturbing anyone and they weren't crowded. After all, there was no-one else is them.
Maybe the rozzer thought that I shouldn't have been in the pool although I find that hard to believe.
I suppose I could have taken the time to find out what the pools were actually for before me natural exuberance took over.
We once had a fella come into our shop asking us if we could stuff his dead cat. He was most put out when we pointed we were 'TaxAssist' not 'taxidermists'. See what I mean? It's easy to make a mistake about what a business is for.
Ah well, what a muppet.
It's kind of the same in business. Sometimes you assume one thing but actually it's something else. It's always worth thinking things all the way through to try and work out all the potential consequences.
Take the trams (and I know the the next line is: someone please take the trams), I thinks there's a marvellous opportunity for me if things don't work out as planned... I would be more than happy to use the overhead lines as a kind of doggy zip wire.
Just imagine it... Me in a basket suspended above all the hustle and bustle being zipped along without effort.
I like that bit the best.
Monday 7 May 2012
Britain's Got Talent
So that little prima dona Pudsey has reached the finals of BGT!
Okay, okay... he's cute, he's talented, he's smart. But I ask you: what's he got that I haven't got?
You can't answer that, can you?
Apart from the fact he's just slightly cuter, just a smidgeon more talented and a tiny little bit smarter.
Anyway, I was watching the box last night and having a right laugh at the furry eejit when I suddenly thought that the Queen, God bless her, would probably really love to see Pudsey in her show. Then I thought that perhaps the Queen has downloaded the Britain's Got Talent i-phone app and has been voting away.
If that's the case, do you think her vote has a weighting... 'Oh, the Queen's voted, so that's an extra thousand points'?
No?
You're probably right.
Anyway, this got me thinking about social media and what a powerful weapon it actually is.
Me human, Richard, has been poking around the social media sites recently, putting out tweets, blogs and Facebook messages... just one a day... and people are picking up on it straight away.
Which is amazing, really. After all, it's Richard so he doesn't talk about dogs much and who's gonna wanna talk about that?
This recent focus on social media came about when his account was attacked by a rogue app: (like I know what that means) it seemed to his followers as though he'd sent out messages that said things like:
'People are saying bad things about you'
and
'I laughed my head off at this picture of you'
Needless to say he didn't send these things, but people obviously read them because a whole load of people got in touch. So, social media does reach people, it's just that you've got to say interesting things to get their attention.
It doesn't always work, but you just might hit on the subject that everyone has an opinion about.
I think I'm going to have to switch my allegiance from Jonathan and Charlotte to Pudsey, but only because I think he might win and I don't want anyone to accuse me of having sour grapes.
Okay, okay... he's cute, he's talented, he's smart. But I ask you: what's he got that I haven't got?
You can't answer that, can you?
Apart from the fact he's just slightly cuter, just a smidgeon more talented and a tiny little bit smarter.
Anyway, I was watching the box last night and having a right laugh at the furry eejit when I suddenly thought that the Queen, God bless her, would probably really love to see Pudsey in her show. Then I thought that perhaps the Queen has downloaded the Britain's Got Talent i-phone app and has been voting away.
If that's the case, do you think her vote has a weighting... 'Oh, the Queen's voted, so that's an extra thousand points'?
No?
You're probably right.
Anyway, this got me thinking about social media and what a powerful weapon it actually is.
Me human, Richard, has been poking around the social media sites recently, putting out tweets, blogs and Facebook messages... just one a day... and people are picking up on it straight away.
Which is amazing, really. After all, it's Richard so he doesn't talk about dogs much and who's gonna wanna talk about that?
This recent focus on social media came about when his account was attacked by a rogue app: (like I know what that means) it seemed to his followers as though he'd sent out messages that said things like:
'People are saying bad things about you'
and
'I laughed my head off at this picture of you'
Needless to say he didn't send these things, but people obviously read them because a whole load of people got in touch. So, social media does reach people, it's just that you've got to say interesting things to get their attention.
It doesn't always work, but you just might hit on the subject that everyone has an opinion about.
I think I'm going to have to switch my allegiance from Jonathan and Charlotte to Pudsey, but only because I think he might win and I don't want anyone to accuse me of having sour grapes.
Wednesday 2 May 2012
Me Human's a Winner
Despite all I've said over the passed few weeks it seems me human, Renee, isn't quite as mad as I thought.
No, she isn't quite as mad and she's an award winner.
Apparently she is the Most Successful Start Up business in the TaxAssist Accountants network.
Brilliant!
But how has she done it?
Well, apart from failing to take me for longer and longer walks, preferring to spend her time in the office I overheard me other human, Richard, explaining what it is that she does.
First of all, apparently, she has a system and sticks to it. So, for example, when it's time for a set of accounts to be signed off by one of her clients, the easiest thing to do would be to send 'em out with a little label on them saying 'Sign Here'.
But she doesn't do that. She talks accounts through with everyone, making sure they understand what's been going on, what the numbers mean and what they could do differently next year to get even better results.
Secondly, she has built a great team around her... not by accident but by developing, encouraging, sometimes having difficult conversations but always making sure they know why they're doing what they're doing.
Finally, marketing has been key... but networking has been the foundation of the marketing.
Renee is the queen of networking. Like the other Thursday... BNI at 6.45, followed by lunch with No Ties followed by The Networks between 6.30 and about 10.00 in the evening. That's because networking is about being there, being seen and always thinking about what you can bring to the group... rather than thinking what the group can do for you.
Do the one thing and you'll get results.
Oh... and, of course, there's one thing that's more important than any of the others... ME!
Without me lying around and looking cute, none of this would have been possible.
So, there you are.
If you want to be successful in business you have to get a ME!
No, she isn't quite as mad and she's an award winner.
Apparently she is the Most Successful Start Up business in the TaxAssist Accountants network.
Brilliant!
But how has she done it?
Well, apart from failing to take me for longer and longer walks, preferring to spend her time in the office I overheard me other human, Richard, explaining what it is that she does.
First of all, apparently, she has a system and sticks to it. So, for example, when it's time for a set of accounts to be signed off by one of her clients, the easiest thing to do would be to send 'em out with a little label on them saying 'Sign Here'.
But she doesn't do that. She talks accounts through with everyone, making sure they understand what's been going on, what the numbers mean and what they could do differently next year to get even better results.
Secondly, she has built a great team around her... not by accident but by developing, encouraging, sometimes having difficult conversations but always making sure they know why they're doing what they're doing.
Finally, marketing has been key... but networking has been the foundation of the marketing.
Renee is the queen of networking. Like the other Thursday... BNI at 6.45, followed by lunch with No Ties followed by The Networks between 6.30 and about 10.00 in the evening. That's because networking is about being there, being seen and always thinking about what you can bring to the group... rather than thinking what the group can do for you.
Do the one thing and you'll get results.
Oh... and, of course, there's one thing that's more important than any of the others... ME!
Without me lying around and looking cute, none of this would have been possible.
So, there you are.
If you want to be successful in business you have to get a ME!
Thursday 12 April 2012
Britain's Got Talent
Ha!
What a joke!
Me human, Renee, has gone daft for a ridiculous little fluff ball called Pudsey, who apparently looked pretty good on Britain's Got Talent.
Here it is if you want to torture yourself with sickly sweetness:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dv_gOBi8Wpk
Me? I thought it was hopeless... all that prancing about on his hind legs, waving his forelegs in the air. I mean, if we were intended to walk like humans God would have halved the size of our brains.
But the cheek of it, Renee suggested that I was not clever enough to do what Pudsey did... but I rather like to think about it in a different way.
To look cute and do my job, all I need to do is look deep into your eyes and cock my head on one side when you say something to me. Pretending that I'm interested in what you're saying, you see. Or, if I'm feeling really energetic, I might roll over onto me back and wave me legs in the air...
A guaranteed tummy rub.
Now, that's cute and it takes a fraction of the effort it took Mudsey. (That's not a typo, by the way).
You see, it's all about knowing what skills you have and what you bring to the party. I'm a marketing magnet and Mudsey is an entertainer; I don't have to do all that muckin' about, but I'm still valuable to the business.
Anyway, if you wanted to talk about lack of brains, how about this? I was lying half asleep this morning when me human got into the shower. All I could hear, half muffled through the closed door was: 'Where me keys, where me 'phone?'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLTIK4soif8
'Nuff said.
What a joke!
Me human, Renee, has gone daft for a ridiculous little fluff ball called Pudsey, who apparently looked pretty good on Britain's Got Talent.
Here it is if you want to torture yourself with sickly sweetness:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dv_gOBi8Wpk
Me? I thought it was hopeless... all that prancing about on his hind legs, waving his forelegs in the air. I mean, if we were intended to walk like humans God would have halved the size of our brains.
But the cheek of it, Renee suggested that I was not clever enough to do what Pudsey did... but I rather like to think about it in a different way.
To look cute and do my job, all I need to do is look deep into your eyes and cock my head on one side when you say something to me. Pretending that I'm interested in what you're saying, you see. Or, if I'm feeling really energetic, I might roll over onto me back and wave me legs in the air...
A guaranteed tummy rub.
Now, that's cute and it takes a fraction of the effort it took Mudsey. (That's not a typo, by the way).
You see, it's all about knowing what skills you have and what you bring to the party. I'm a marketing magnet and Mudsey is an entertainer; I don't have to do all that muckin' about, but I'm still valuable to the business.
Anyway, if you wanted to talk about lack of brains, how about this? I was lying half asleep this morning when me human got into the shower. All I could hear, half muffled through the closed door was: 'Where me keys, where me 'phone?'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLTIK4soif8
'Nuff said.
Monday 30 January 2012
End of Tax Return Season
Well, me old muckers... we seem to have made it.
To the end of tax return season that is. Just a day to go until HMRC (or HM Arsey as Renee calls 'em) start levying the fines. Except they've extended the deadline by two days because of some strike or other.
Those workers should be more dog-like. I'm always on strike. Except when it's walk time. Or food time. Or play time. Or treat time.
But I'm having a bit f break whilst me humans shove off on holiday. At 3 O'Clock on Sunday morning I was rudely awakened, plonked in the back of a car and driven 400 miles to Richard's parents. I was very pleased to get there, I can tell you.
So pleased I ran right passed them into their back garden pausing only to bite the one and only bud there was on a bunch of tulips shooting out of a plant pot, knocked over the bird bath, decided I needed a drink, slurped a full bowl of water and then promptly threw up over the lounge carpet.
I may have been a little too excited.
Since then, though, I've calmed meself down and am generally taken things easy. No more being marched to the shop at 7 in the morning without a chance of slipping the ol' lead, even for a few minutes.
Nope... it's up at 8, loaf out into the garden for me morning ablutions before a leisurely breakfast and a walk with old man Lambert down to the shop for the papers. Sit outside, looking cute and get me chin scratched by the little ol' lady before heading over to the park to pretend I like chasing a ball.
It's a leisurely life for me for a couple of weeks.
It's important, I think to re-charge the batteries and I'm sure Renee will come back off her holibags fighting fit and raring to go. I'll be right behind her. About 50 yards right enough.
To the end of tax return season that is. Just a day to go until HMRC (or HM Arsey as Renee calls 'em) start levying the fines. Except they've extended the deadline by two days because of some strike or other.
Those workers should be more dog-like. I'm always on strike. Except when it's walk time. Or food time. Or play time. Or treat time.
But I'm having a bit f break whilst me humans shove off on holiday. At 3 O'Clock on Sunday morning I was rudely awakened, plonked in the back of a car and driven 400 miles to Richard's parents. I was very pleased to get there, I can tell you.
So pleased I ran right passed them into their back garden pausing only to bite the one and only bud there was on a bunch of tulips shooting out of a plant pot, knocked over the bird bath, decided I needed a drink, slurped a full bowl of water and then promptly threw up over the lounge carpet.
I may have been a little too excited.
Since then, though, I've calmed meself down and am generally taken things easy. No more being marched to the shop at 7 in the morning without a chance of slipping the ol' lead, even for a few minutes.
Nope... it's up at 8, loaf out into the garden for me morning ablutions before a leisurely breakfast and a walk with old man Lambert down to the shop for the papers. Sit outside, looking cute and get me chin scratched by the little ol' lady before heading over to the park to pretend I like chasing a ball.
It's a leisurely life for me for a couple of weeks.
It's important, I think to re-charge the batteries and I'm sure Renee will come back off her holibags fighting fit and raring to go. I'll be right behind her. About 50 yards right enough.
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