An evening by the sea.

Last night I was treated to a very rare evening out, courtesy of Mr Me's parents. Fighting a cold all weekend I was looking forward to the fresh Autumn sea air clearing my head. It worked.

We spent our evening in Torquay. Now, those who know me know my opinion on the seaside towns in Devon. I rarely wax lyrical about them. Although lots offer fab places to eat great local fish so not all is lost. If you are looking for amazing restauranty type fish I'd recommend the No 7 Fish Bistro near the Harbour in Torquay. Or, if it's great fish and a view that you are after (as long as you aren't fussed about the side dishes) I loved the atmosphere of The Breakwater Bistro in Brixham.

Last night we were treated to a turn (or 3!) on the Torquay Wheel. On loan until 4th Nov (so hurry!) this giant wheel offers splendid views over the bay. According to their site "At 60 metres high the big wheel recently installed on Torquay sea front is taller than Nelson's Column. " Not entirely sure how relevant that is. All I can tell you is that I couldn't see Nelson's Column from Torquay sea front*. If you *would* like to see Nelson's Column you can do so from the top deck of most central London buses. My favourite time and way to see said column is from the N87 to Kingston (via Clapham Junction) at about 5 in the morning.

But back to the "Torquay Eye". We went on in the evening, not as cold as you'd think, and were treated to views of the bay all lit up. Looking out for Berry Head lighthouse was my favourite bit and I was certainly treated to a nicer aspect of Torquay that I am used to. If you have a problem with heights I wouldn't suggest you go on it - it does rock a little and is glass, not to mention being an awfully long way up! Although it was a lovely evening and it did clear the cobwebs...

*In much the same way that Mrs Richards couldn't see herds of wildebeest sweeping majestically across the plains from her Torquay Hotel bedroom window

Time Keeping. Keeping Time

Up until yesterday I was using myhours as my online time keeping solution. It is web based and free and so over the past 12 months is has become a huge part of my daily business admin.

myhours.com

As someone who is self employed, keeping track of the minutes that you spend working on a project is vital when it comes to invoicing a client. Those five minutes here and there matter and soon mount up. After all, no-one is working for free.

So, last week, when myhours inexplicably went down and starting throwing out 503 error pages I was a bit annoyed. I assumed it was a glitch, kept a careful eye on the clock myself and got on with the job in hand.

Yesterday, the site went down again. Hmm. Part way through 4 and something hours for a client. Great. Once is forgiven. Twice and this consumer will walk. I wanted to email them - don't you know your site is down? But I couldn't as their "mailto" is hidden on the home page that is broken.

I took to twitter. Other people seemed to be having issues. I tweeted in the hope that the solution (or a contact for myhours) would appear out of thin air. Nothing.

So I googled and I came across paymo.biz

Cleaner, sexier UI

Okay, it is prettier. And it is more modern in tone. And the free basic package seems to offer everything I need as a one man band. So I signed up. I've clocked up a little over 4 hours so far without a single issue.

And, more importantly for me? I got a response to my twitter myhours query from a gent in the states. I replied suggesting paymo as an alternative as he too was struggling with myhours. Within the hour paymo got in touch:

Real customer service

I haven't had chance to look into the reporting element of the software but I've added the clients I am working with this week and I'm tracking the time I am spending so I am happy. And I am a sucker for a company getting it right...

How much are British Gas making on the sly?

It doesn't have to be British Gas. In this instance, it is. But it doesn't have to be. All companies get it wrong - every person has a complaint about one company or other. But British Gas has got *everything* wrong.

I moved house. I am a tenant. By definition tenants move. I called British Gas to say "hey, lucky you, you supply the energy to my new rented house. WOO! Please register me as the account holder."

Well, according to their advertising they have heard the term "landlord" before.

This happened AFTER the landlady had called them to request a final bill.* The property had been empty for a while and so she'd taken on the bill. That is fairly normal behaviour in my vast experience.**

Over the course of the next couple of months the following happened over and over again.

1 British Gas write to my landlord at my address with a bill for the energy used since I moved in
2 I call/email/tweet British Gas to pay
3 I can't pay as I am not the account holder
4 I call/email/tweet British Gas to complain

And so, again, and again.

At one point, British Gas - post offering me verbal and empty apologies for their admin error - very kindly and generously passed on my landlords debt (actually mine) to a debt collection agency. Nice people. Only the "debt" had my mobile phone number, my email address and my landlords name attached to it. They couldn't talk to me due to the Data Protection Act. Great.

Eventually I was allowed - after too many phone calls and emails on my part - to pay my bill. I am honest like that and only ever want to pay what I owe.

At this point I switched to EDF Energy. And looked forward to the day when British Gas would leave my life forever.

He is so cute, and all warm in front of clever advertising fire. Who wouldn't want to be green *and* warm?

EDF did everything and I happily set up the Direct Debit and got on with being busy.

Last week I got a bill from British Gas. The maths didn't add up and so I called the complaints team. Again. Just to check. I no longer trusted them to get the admin right and the £51 bill seemed too much energy from August 17th when EDF took over on the 23rd!

I spoke to a lovely man at British Gas. Oh, by the way, everyone I spoke to at British Gas was lovely. It isn't their fault that they don't work for EDF.

EDF did request that British Gas cancel the account and stop supplying energy to my property. British Gas took this request and failed to process it. Sorry? Is there anything that you do do right?

I have requested a full investigation into ALL communication between us and want a full explanation. I doubt that will ever happen. But why should I pay for energy twice?

How much money do British Gas make from unsuspecting customers who aren't going to question them?


*That bill arrived. She paid it. I know this as I actually happen to know her rather well.
**I am 28 and have had 13 addresses. 7 of those as a "bill payer" and tenant responsible for choosing energy suppliers. Therefore, I feel qualified to use 'vast' as my experience status in the land of bill paying and tenanted properties.

Dartmoor. Poem-y post.

Granite

Wild moors give us Granite.

Defying nature's cycle, underfoot predates time.

Breeze bringing rain, hail and snow

send hikers and ponies scattering as Autumn winds blow.

But the tors are different.

Giant soldiers raise up refusing to be beaten.

Granite glories in sunshine, exhaling exhaustive heat - 

in frost, icicles march to mirror the rock's own beat.

They are part of a rhythm - unending.

This battalion has winking eyes and is warm to touch.

A steady Oak encourages life with protective branches but doesn't withstand the storm;

posthumously proffering scarred roots for spring growth is all.

Graceful soldiers abandoned by ancient Gods never fail.

Hound Tor in the snow.

A Blog About Blood.

Last week I donated blood for the first time. I realise that a lot of people donate blood all the time and that I shouldn't really be "showing off" about it. I shall endeavour not to come across as worthy in this post. I certainly don't want to give you all ins and outs of blood donation from a sciency medical point of view. For all those details see the wonderful PR and Comms on the blood people's website. Team GB. Team Give Blood. Oh, that is clever. I like that. See? They can market themselves wonderfully without me getting all lyrical about it.

However, I wanted to tell you about my experience. There is no getting away from the fact that giving blood is a bit worthy and that it is hugely worthwhile. Those that can give blood, should.

Yes, yes, but actually going about it provides a million excuses for the everyday sort of procrastinator, much less the sort who has a fear of all things Hospital. I get nervous just sitting in the Dr's surgery. I don't get on well with hospitals and have had some nasty times in them. Aside from the smells, noises and trapped souls I think the actual architecture doesn't help. Hospitals, like hotels, are a maze of corridors lined with large bins of dirty linen, with windows that don't open and false, eerie lighting. Prone to sensory overload and a rising panic it is best that I don't frequent hospital environs.

I decided though, for personal reasons, that I would like to try and give blood. What is the worst that could happen?

I could faint. Yes, I could. I nearly passed out having a blood test once. It was fine. In the end.

It would hurt. I don't actually have a problem with needles but surely it would hurt.

It would be the opposite of the wonderful sensation of the anesthetic flowing, coldly, into your veins... And?

So Mr Me and I went off on a Friday evening to give blood. It did help that it was in a Primary School Hall so it didn't feel like a hospital. Also, the double doors were thrown open so there was lots of air. The machines do make a noise but there is a gentle chit chat of people who haven't seen each other for a while, nurses chatting while people eat their biscuits and drink themselves strong enough to go home. The team have a clear system so that you don't feel that you are lost or out of place. They are reassuring. They can read people. They can sense a nervous patient or a donor virgin. They smile, reassure and gauge whether you need longer lying down or not.

An info card to take home 

There have also been changes made since I went and saw my sister give blood a few years ago. Now you have to drink a pint of water before you start and you are given exercises to do throughout the process to prevent your blood pressure going all over the place. Ultimately to reduce the sense of wooziness or fainting. I lay there staring at the comforting art of primary school children that adorned the walls. I crossed and uncrossed my legs. I nearly gave myself the giggles in trying to clench my bum cheeks and thigh muscles as per the exercise suggestions. I looked at other donors and wondered, briefly, if they were doing the exercises. I am a bleeder so about four minutes later my donation was complete. I'd done it. NOT SO FAST. You've not tried standing up yet and surely the relief might, in itself, make you collapse. A nurse appeared with the nicest little cup of lemon squash I've ever tasted. She sat me up and saw the blood drain from my face. So we chatted. We chatted about the local area, the school, her grown up son. I was laughing. She was laughing. Then she helped me stand and sent me to the corner for biscuits/crisps and more drinks - hot or cold. I had done it. I felt fine.

A sticker to prove to myself that I really had done it!

And, there was barely a mark on me. By the time I got home I was exhausted and I did sleep well that night but I think that is allowed, under the circumstances.

I would urge anyone reading this (if, indeed, such people are) to donate blood. Don't assume that because you are scared, busy, or "going to do that tomorrow" that you can't. The team are great. It's easier than you think and yes, it does leave you feeling just that little bit worthy.

Recession Rant. Or, Blackbirds and Whales.

Apparently there is a recession on. I'm no economist, so I cannot comment on the verisimilitude of that, but "double dip" "economic downturn" and "austerity" are still the keywords of the political and economic arena. On Sunday, Chris Packham (of Really Wild Show fame) said something on Radio4 about weather versus climate. To paraphrase, he said: "The blackbirds will be okay, they are evolved to withstand a bad weather year. I can't comment on the whales. Whale behaviour is to do with climate, not weather. Climate is long term."

Knitted blackbirds aren't concerned with weather.

Why am I linking weather and the recession? Because everyone else is. Politicians, journalists, economists and commentators keep telling us about the current economic "climate". Which, according to Chris Packham and the whales, is long term.

People are tightening their belts. Are they? Even ignoring vast olympian spending and poor unsuspecting couples winning £148 million on the lottery, I still fail to see people curbing their spending. Facebook, twitter and overheard conversations lead me to firm evidence that holidays are still being booked, gigs/theatre still attended and cars still being upgraded. Whether this is weather or climate, I still have no spare change. Guilt ridden that I don't pay farmers the correct sum of money for milk, or even buy their veg if I can source it for free from other people's gardens, I continue to get by the best I can on the least amount of money.

Save every penny

Maybe it's just all relative. Maybe those going on holiday are now staying in the UK to save money. Maybe those upgrading their cars are just refreshing rather than buying. If you had five pots of money and you now only have three I suppose you do adjust your spending. But what happens if you only had one pot in the first place?

Maybe those with money are "riding the storm" but not accepting climate change? Or, maybe some of us are blackbirds and some are whales. I fear I am a whale.

Meteors, Bats and Devon's most overpriced Rabbit Pie?

I haven't actually done ANY formal research into the price of Rabbit pie in and around Devon - or, more specifically, Dartmoor. However, I'm willing to bet that £11.50 for Rabbit Pie, Chips and Veg is over the odds. Aptly named "warreners pie" at The Warren House Inn, you don't need much imagination to assume that this home made pie has little in the way of overheads. The mark up must be huge. Word to the wise - if you are heading out that way for lunch then stick with the lovely £7.50 ploughmans. I'm not really meant to be reviewing the pub. It's a fine pub. Check it out for yourself. The views are fantastic - when it's clear - and it's geared up for the tourist who loves a good ghostly story of the Devil and his card playing ways. Not to mention the magic of an everlasting peat fire...

I said this *wasn't* a review. We didn't even go. That is the point.

Last weekend it was Mr Me's Thirtieth birthday. Each year his birthday coincides with the Perseid Meteor shower and Mr Me is a geek. A real geek. The genuine article. Not a geek a la mode. One untouched by the charm of Prof Brian Cox and his beautiful hair and playful eyes.

Wonderfully wistful

Sorry, distracted.

YES. It was Mr Me's birthday. He has more beautiful eyes than even Brian Cox AND he is my own personal geek. I got him some awesome gifts including a rather nice pair of binoculars to watch said meteor shower. I planned it all down the last detail. It was going to amazingly romantic. A tent, the open moor, fantastic skies, malbec, pie - we wouldn't eat overpriced Rabbit Pie but instead munch on these:

Perfectly priced pie

There was even salami, chorizo, tiger bread and apple juice for the most middle class of picnic breakfasts. I know Dartmoor. It's in my blood. I know it, I love it and I respect it. Driving through the Wray valley the rain came in. I reassured Mr Me that it was thin mizzly rain and would be low cloud-y sort of rain. Up high it would be clear. Up we went. And it was clear-er. It wasn't raining at least. But from Cosdon Beacon way North the storm clouds were looming. In fact, the only clear sky was back down towards Hound Tor.

Determined NOT to let the trip be a complete waste of time I said a little prayer to Mother Earth to let the skies be clear. She responded with the echoes of thunder. Not before we were able to sit out near Hound Tor and have a few sips of wine and our pies though:

Time for a pie before the rain...

Pieminister clearly know pie. I don't know if the taste was enhanced by the fresh air, the wine or the good company but it was a fine supper. In spite of the clouds.

Embarrassingly, only hours after packing the car we were unpacking and taking the camping chairs to sit on the patio. "We'll still see some meteors, it's clear here." Ever the optimist. For an hour we sat there with me pretending very hard that it was open moorland and not the back garden. It should have been an evening with delighted cries of "oooh, there's one" as the dusty debris burnt up on collision with our atmosphere. Instead the evening was punctuated with "bat!" every time another bat swooped over the garden. This was soon followed up with "bat... lightning... bat... bat... lightning... THUNDER". And a move to have an early night while the massive thunderstorm raged from coast to moor and back again.

The Perseid Meteor shower went unseen. Displays of great shooting light across the sky was reserved only for the tops of angry clouds. Bats came down to feast on the midges that had earlier been feasting on me. And we ate cured meat under a sleeping bag on the patio. We can see shooting stars next year perhaps but for Mr Me's 31st I don't think it will hold the same sense of romance...