Is the pen-name of now-dead fellow Boltonian Richard Henry Macfarlane who wrote very bad, very funny poems. My friend Fern gave me a copy of `Poetic Off-Licence' as a present. To give you a flavour:
I rely on you
like a handyman needs pliers
like an auctioneer needs buyers
like a laundromat needs dryers
like the Good Life needed Richard Briers....
Its been a wet, windy, slightly dismal week. My kids have had the lurgy and have kept me up (one or the other)for half the night most days this week.
On top of this, work has been, as it occasionally is, pretty awful. Had to pull two days worth of appointments to get down-and-dirty on a proposal to a social investor which appeared to go going a bit sideways. Got stuck in OK and we got it right but it felt like a throwback to things I hoped I had managed to delegate a couple of years ago. Anyway, we all got there and the teamwork was fab. I love the way people at Speaking Up collaborate like ants when they have to. There we all were, 6.45pm, six of em all working away to get this thing done.
Of course it was all about bringing in investment. This is both the best and worst thing about our sector. Best because it forces us to be sharp, to innovate and to be accountable. Worst because it can be draining and repetitive work after a while.
This will be a short posting as its 8pm and I have to cook tonight. Went to look at a house with Katy earlier. Its lovely, I'll just have to become Aston Villa's next winger to be able to pay the mortgage. Which at 38 aint going to happen. Katy seems to forget sometimes that I work for a charity and she hasn't got a paid job any more.
Still it was nice to wander round a garden the size of most London parks.