You are currently browsing the monthly archive for February, 2009.
Our Venerable Centre Director was on Radio Cumbria yesterday – for nearly an hour. She was the guest on their regular Wednesday “My Life in Ten Questions” feature – wherein she answered (you guessed it) ten questions about her life, likes and work.
She acquitted herself commendably, of course, and we were all plugged into our computers/radios/ipods hanging on her every word and laughing dutifully at all the funny bits (not to mention waving pathetically when she mentioned our names …).
At one point, Kevin Fernihough suffered an uncharacteristic lapse in gallantry when, just before asking her if she’d cracked the whole ‘Meaning of Life’ thing (as if), he said:
“Now you’ve been around long enough …”
Our Wednesday gardeners – all gathered around the lunch table - immediately latched onto this, of course, and when Gretchen got back to the Centre, she found this stuck to the kitchen cupboard:
If you missed the broadcast and would like to hear it, you can catch it on ‘Listen again’ on the Radio Cumbria website OR, you can contact us at the Centre, and we can fix you right up (nudge-nudge, wink-wink, know what I mean?).
Further to my previous rant about Pitney Bowes and their wretched franking machine postage meter … (What do you mean you don’t remember it? How can you NOT remember it? It was a classic of its kind … A Voice Crying in the Wilderness.) Anyway – further to THAT, I finally managed to get hold of Pitney Bowes and told them what I thought of their franking machine postage meter.
It’s all packed up, ready to be collected just as soon as they get around to sending anyone to collect it. In fact, it’s BEEN ready for nearly a fortnight now – but that’s not my problem.
Yesterday, the telephone rang, and it was Pitney Bowes.
“Ah!”, I thought as I heard the magic words ‘Pitney’ and ‘Bowes’ down the telephone line, “They’re ‘phoning to arrange collection.”
Then, very slowly, the import of what the person on the other end of the ‘phone was saying seeped in.
“Do you still use postage stamps a lot?” he enquired, cheerfully, reading from his crib card.
“You aren’t – by any chance – trying to rent me a franking machine postage meter, ARE you?”
“Er. Well. Yes …”
Actually, now I come to think of it, I rather LIKE the phrase ‘franking machine’. If you scream it with sufficient venom, you can make ‘franking’ sound like an obscenity.
The closing date for the Trivia Quizzes has passed (it was the 14th) so now I can open all the envelopes and set about marking them.
I already know, however, that I have done my job properly and can go to the Great Quizmaster in the Sky secure in the knowledge of a life fulfilled.
Why? Because of the comments that have come back with the quizzes, two of which I thought I’d share with you …
Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside … 
Once a month, I write a page in the Eskdale Parish News – copy deadline, 15th of the month.
As I was bashing out this month’s copy, it suddenly occurred to me that there was no reason why my jolly pearls of wisdom should be limited to Eskdale. So, here you are – read, mark, learn and inwardly digest:
On a fairly regular basis we receive telephone calls from various bods trying to persuade us to spend good money on advertising. When we say that we don’t NEED to advertise, they react as if we’ve uttered the ultimate blasphemy … but it is, in fact, quite true. In spite being a small, independent operation stuck out on a geographical limb and without the benefits of an umbrella organization, people manage to find their way to us without any trouble.
How this actually happens is quite interesting … and bears closer examination.
Firstly, there’s simple word-of-mouth. People come because other people – who have themselves benefited from treatment here – have recommended us. That’s the best advertising of all, of course …
Secondly, there are the informal referrals from – for instance – GPs, consultants, nurses, the clergy, social workers and the Citizens’ Advice Bureau. In fact, these tend to shade into the first category, because they are very often GPs, doctors, nurses etc, who have been to the Centre for treatment themselves.
Next, there’s the naturally occurring (and therefore free!) publicity that’s generated by the research project, local fundraising events and just generally having a fairly high profile and a reputation for being good for a few well-chosen words. When, for instance, the newly-hatched University of Cumbria was looking for something eye-catching to attract press attention, their PR consultants hit upon our research project (carried out by St Martin’s College – now part of the University of Cumbria), which resulted in a flurry of newspaper, radio and television interviews. At the opposite end of the spectrum, hands up everyone who remembers the banner headlines in the News of the World about poor Harry Enfield regularly making 600 mile round trips to see a ‘mystic healer’ on account of being consumed by his own comic creations. (In fact, he’d made ONE 600 mile round trip to attend our Open Day, then return to his heavily-pregnant wife …).
Added to the above, there’s the increasing importance of the internet. Our website – www.cccare.org – regularly attracts 2,500 views a month – and rising. Some of those are people specifically looking for us, but others arrive with us because they were looking for “healing centres in Cumbria” or similar. (How do we know that? Because our website statistics tell us so … Big Brother is alive and well and hanging around at a loose end in Muncaster.)
Finally there’s the Centre Manager’s ‘leisure-time occupation’ – although it’s more like a part-time, unpaid job. She’s Co-Administrator of an insanely successful literary-cum-book-review website called Vulpes Libris (that’s Book Foxes to you and me) which pulls in over 20,000 views a month – www.vulpeslibris.wordpress.com. On it, she has a little potted bio page … which leads directly back to the Centre’s website and her Centre Manager’s blog.
Add them all together … and THAT’S why we don’t need to spend money on advertising.
There are SOME things that just wouldn’t happen in the middle of say – Stoke Newington or Milton Keynes.
One of them happened a couple of weekends ago, one Saturday just at the beginning of the wintry blast.
I was at home with the Matriarch, when – at about 3.30pm - the power went off.
This, in itself, is a far from unusual occurrence. The power supply in this part of the world is pretty fragile and goes ‘phut’ on a fairly regular basis. We’re used to it. We break out the hurricane lamps, candles and oil lamps and throw a couple more logs on the fire. No big deal.
The power was back within a couple of hours and we all thought no more about it.
Turns out, however, that THIS time, it was a bit unusual. This time, the power went because one of the members of the regular Saturday pheasant slaughter managed to shoot out the power lines. I understand it was dead spectacular.
No fatalities amongst the ‘guns’ though.
Pity.
Most people who believe in reincarnation seem to think (for some reason that escapes me) that in a previous life they were princes, scientists, duchesses, artists, libertines, high-ranking courtesans … you know … that sort of stuff. Something interesting.
Hardly anyone ever seems to believe they were lant collectors, rat catchers or washerwomen. Odd, that.
Anyway … I don’t actually believe in reincarnation … but if I did, I’m absolutely certain that in a previous life I’d have been a totter – a seller of other people’s tat.
“Why is this?” I hear you cry. “Why does someone with your impeccable credentials, brains and looks think she was a rag-and-bone person in an earlier life?”
Because I’m so very GOOD at it, that’s why … Where other people see junk, I see money. I have a nose for what will sell. I can tell genuine Victorian from modern reproduction at fifty paces.
At the moment, I’m engaged in lining stuff up to go on eBay … scheduling them to pop up every two or three days, to keep it ticking over. Since the beginning of January, we’ve cleared over £100 …
Which is why I tolerate my desk looking like THIS:
If you want to keep an eye on what I’m up to … try clicking HERE.
We had a picturesque covering of snow this morning (unlike most of the rest of the country, which got dumped on big time … with more forecast for tonight and tomorrow).
So my walk to work took twice as long as usual on account of my stopping every ten yards to take photographs:
The next time someone asks me why I’ve buried myself alive in the middle of nowhere … I’ll just give them the link to this page, I think …
