Thank you balloons

Posted on December 12, 2014 by thepogblog

When I was growing up, saying please and thank you was drummed into me.  As an adult, I find it REALLY irritating when people don’t remember their manners – I get very grumpy if people don’t say thank you when I have done something for them, and mortified when I forget.

So I really liked the idea that someone in my team and someone in HR put together to have an ‘appreciation day’ at work where, for a donation to charity, you could buy a helium balloon, write a card to your intended recipient and deliver it to their desk.  I just wasn’t sure if it would work in London.  With a few notable exceptions, we’re polite, but reserved in that British way we have.  I just couldn’t see people getting involved and carrying balloons around the office.

But I was wrong.  So wrong :o)

balloon

Yesterday, this happened in my old office (where by happy coincidence, I spent the day) and in our New York office.  I was given three balloons for 1) some work I had done 2) for being me and 3) for being ‘the best’.  It made me very smiley, got everyone in the office talking, looked rather lovely and made money for charity.

So because I don’t say it often enough, thank YOU for reading my blog.  I get a real kick out of seeing how many people take a look at my ramblings, and it also helps me find (sometimes with a lot of digging, I admit) the funny side to thing that happen.  Consider yourself a balloon recipient :o)

 

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Is dancing the answer?

Posted on December 9, 2014 by thepogblog

The last few weeks have been…well…tricky.

I’ve started my new job which has been a long way from plain sailing, Mum has been poorly and there has been another typhoon in the Philippines.  I didn’t realise just how much I cared about my adopted family until that happened.

But the job is (very slowly) sorting itself out, Mum (almost) has a date for the operation which should make her all better and all of Jackie’s family – my adopted family –  are safe in Tacloban after a hairy 12 hours.

Yesterday was a good day (after that small incident when I thought the office lights had a sensor which wasn’t very…sensor-y – so I did a dance all round the office before realising there was a light switch on the wall) so I had high hopes for today.

It started with a conviction there was an animal somewhere under the day bed in my conservatory – I could hear squeaking.  I made sure Norman wasn’t interested, got out my pyrex mixing bowl (animal catcher of choice at Pog Towers) and started removing everything from under the bed.  As Pog Towers has little storage, this was no mean feat – it’s packed tightly.  Having removed everything though, I could see no sign of any animal.  But I could still hear the squeaking.  Then it dawned on me.  The conservatory was a balmy 3 degrees when I got up this morning, so I’d set the heater to full and ‘turning’.  That was my animal.  Or at least that was what was squeaking as it turned…

Onto the next job:

Yesterday I set up my new iphone for work (well, after a lot of help from Derrick from Vodafone, David who I sit next to and several people on the work helpdesk).  I just needed to download something or other today so that I could receive e-mails and I would be away.  I spent some time following the instructions but the website would only load if I held the phone out of the back door.  I realised it was probably because it was set to 3G and that doesn’t work terribly well in Bumpkinsville, so I called Vodafone to ask how to change it to 2G as I had with my Blackberry.  ‘All’ I had to do was upgrade itunes, download some software, upload it to my phone and I could do exactly that.  Two hours later I’d managed this technical feat, but nothing had changed.  I called back: ‘Oh, sorry, that’s actually not going to be available for a few months’ I was told.  The lady didn’t see why 3G wouldn’t work for me.  She took my postcode to check.  ‘You have some reception in that area’ she said.  ‘Just not inside any buildings’.  She was actually suggesting that I stood in the garden to send and receive e-mails and make calls while I’m at home…

So today wasn’t a great day.  But in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a bad day either; no iphone, but no injured animal either. I’ve just realised my mistake though…I didn’t start the day with a dance – that  must be how to make a day go well.  I’ll test this theory and let you know.  :o)

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Nurse Pog to the rescue!

Posted on December 2, 2014 by thepogblog

When I was little, I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up.  This is  me meeting my sisters for the first time:

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(Well, it was a hospital.  Obviously I had to wear my nurses uniform.)

I did go to nursing college.  Twice.  But I never graduated (that story is too long and boring for the blog though).  Instead I ended up working in an office on a computer – not quite the plan.  But I think I may have found a bit of a balance…

A few weeks ago, someone posted on a Facebook group that she had a crochet tortoise that had been her Mum’s, but that her daughter now played with.  Being rather old and well loved, Tortoise was in need of some TLC – she was asking if anyone could help.

I commented, saying I only crocheted as a hobby, but if nobody else could be found, I’d do my best to help.  Nobody else offered and Tortoise arrived at Pog Towers, turning out to be a lot bigger than I thought and in a very sorry state.

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I’ve never tried to fix anything crocheted before – I’d never even made a hexagon, which is what Tortoise was made up of.  I looked up a pattern, taught myself a new stitch and rummaged through my wool collection for oddments that matched.  It turns out it’s rather tricky to fit new pieces into something old, but I worked out a way and over a few evenings, I nursed Tortoise back to health.  I fixed his shell and tummy, reattached his legs and a poorly eye and re-stitched the seams that looked a bit sick.  I tried to keep as much of the original stitching as I could.

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t8

 

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It turns out that Tortoise had actually been made by this lady’s Grandma for her Mum….Tortoise is over 50 years old!  Sadly, Grandma and Mum are no longer with us, which meant he has even more sentimental value than I had thought (and scared me even more in case my nursing skills weren’t up to scratch!).  It also turns out that the lady’s Mum was a nurse – this is a picture of Tortoise in his younger days with her Mum’s nursing friends:

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The best part of all this though, was delivering Tortoise back to his home.  The little girl who plays with him was SO happy to have him back!  We had a look at all the bits I’d fixed and she approved – especially that I’d fixed what she called his ‘dripping eye’.

So what do you think?  Could I open a toy hospital and be Nurse Pog after all? :o)

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Pog Patterns

Posted on November 25, 2014 by thepogblog

Do you remember that post where I showed you some of the instructions I’d sent to a friend so she could make her daughter a Pogimal?  The instructions were bad.  No, actually, they were terrible:

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So I was amazed when the friend I’d sent them to emailed me the pictures of the end product.  She must be some sort of genius, as she’d managed to make this little man:

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She even made him some pants!

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I think my friend deserves a lot of credit for managing to interpret my drawings, but, having seen a picture of her daughter’s smile when she met ‘Pogiman’ the next morning, no credit from anyone else was needed.

It made me wonder though, if there was a call for me to market my patterns.  Don’t worry…the wondering only lasted a few seconds before I realised that I’d probably be arrested for crimes against the art world or something, with my drawings. And actually, I had another brand new challenge that appeared out of nowhere instead.  More on that next time :o)

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First week of new job discoveries

Posted on November 21, 2014 by thepogblog

I’ve got through the first week in my new job, but it’s been…different.  I think the fact that I bought my first ever lottery ticket this week probably says quite a lot.  There was no ‘getting up to speed’.  No, I was thrown in head first.  The good thing is that I’ve learned a lot – about the area of the business I’ve moved to, and, well, a few other things too.

– First, I discovered I’m incapable of opening any door in the office without swearing.  They are all swipe activated and give you approximately 0.4 seconds to swipe and then open.  That would be fine, if it wasn’t for the fact that each door opens the opposite way to what you expect.  So you swipe and pull, only to discover you need to push, but then  the swipe is not longer valid and you need to start again.  THEN you find out that only one side does anything anyway.  Hence the swearing.  Grr

Push or pull?

Push or pull? Left or right?

– I can’t turn on the taps in the toilet.  They do their own thing entirely.   I was very excited to see that the taps were all named, however.  I thought that gave things an interesting slant….but they all have ‘Franke’ on them, suggesting that if someone has indeed named them, they have done so with alarming lack of imagination.  I may have to ‘edit’ the stamps over time :o)

12– There are weird people things out of the window, attached to the building opposite.  What are these?!

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– There’s a posh coffee machine on my floor (by posh, I mean it uses beans and makes whooshy noises.  It may not actually be posh – I’m just very easily impressed).  I can fit eight espressos in my mug in one go.

– It takes 15 minutes to drink eight espressos.

– You should not have 3 coffees followed by eight espressos, all before 9am.  It makes you feel a bit jumpy.  And sick.

– People do not talk in this office.  I introduced myself to a lot of people in my area and they all looked terrified (And I’d not eaten so I know there was no food stuck to my face).  I asked someone whose been there 9 months or so to help with the plan I was making so I could learn names of the 30 or so people (see below), but it turns out that each of the 4 teams in the area only talk to each other so nobody knows everyone’s name.

– When you introduce yourself to someone, write their name down straight away.  I had a lovely conversation with Dave at the coffee machine (while he showed some concern over my espresso hit), only to later discover his name is John.

– And finally, I might work for a huge company with offices all over the world, but that doesn’t stop the basic problems in an old building apparently.  I’ve had to go and buy plastic boxes this week for the food and cereal I keep in my desk drawers.  Why?  Because the office has MICE!  I’ve asked Norman if he’d come up with me and sort the issue, but he’s not interested.  This could be due to the fact that last time he bought in a mouse it was headless.  Unfortunately I found the head as I put my foot in my slipper and squished it.  Maybe it would be safer to just live with the mice than start Norman commuting – it’s going to be hard enough to interact with people without having to explain away rogue mouse heads… :o)

Oh, maybe he does want to come up with me after all...

Oh, maybe he does want to come up with me after all…

 

 

 

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Sisters are doin’ it for themselves…just about

Posted on November 18, 2014 by thepogblog

On Saturday I went on a car maintenance course.  Before I left home ‘Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves’ came on the radio, which seemed rather appropriate.  I sang along, feeling quite smug that I only really needed to learn how to change a wheel on the course – I was pretty sure I knew everything else.  (For long time readers of this blog who may remember a few previous car incidents, I should point out that knowing and doing are two very different things).

Now, I’m not sure if something happens to me in public where everything just drains out of my brain, or if I am just deluded in how much I think I know, but from the very first moment I realised that this sister might be doing it for herself by the end of the few hours, but she certainly needed a bit of help until then.

The female mechanic started us off slowly.  ‘If you could just pop your bonnets?’

I swear I’ve opened the bonnet on my car before, but someone had since moved the handle.  I’m ashamed to say that after a bit of hunting, I had to swallow my pride and admit I couldn’t even complete this simple command.  It got worse a little later when we had to test our lights ‘Indicators?’ shouted the mechanic as she stood at the back of my car to check all the lights were working.  I turned on the window wipers. ‘Brake lights?’  I panicked.  I had to ask which pedal it was.  I’ve been driving for over 20 years. I am an embarrassment to the female race.

Finally!

Finally!

We did lots though, and now I know about oil, brake fluid, water, screen wash, how to jump start and jack up a car, understand which warning lights mean what and which ones are worth panicking over and everything is topped up for the winter.  When it got to changing the wheel, we used one of the garage’s courtesy cars (just in case we managed to scratch our own – I can’t help but wonder if that was based on my total incompetence…).

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Anyway, I turned the air blue with my swearing, but I did it, much to my amazement.

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proof!

It was suggested that I get a big old turny thing for undoing the nuts rather than using the tidily one that came with my car, so I can jump on it if needs be.  And once I remember the proper name of the turny thing so the people at Halfords don’t laugh at me, I’ll be off to get one.  Then it’s just a question of, should I ever need to change a wheel, would I be brave enough to drive the car afterwards?  I’m thinking maybe I should take out AA membership, just to be safe :o)

And in other car related news, 10 months after I was told I had to stop driving due to that falling over thing I was doing, and 9 months after I was told I could drive, but the DVLA wanted to check if they agreed in the long term, I finally got official notification.  In their wisdom, the DVLA have decided that it is indeed ok for me to keep my licence, but I am not allowed to drive ‘a tricycle (a three wheeled vehicle)’.  Um…right.  So that’s the Reliant Robin plans out the window then.  It’s just as well – I’ve no idea how you’d change a wheel on one of those.  :o)

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New job, here I come!

Posted on November 14, 2014 by thepogblog

I have a new job!  It’s in the same company, but a different part– so different that it might as well be a new company.  New office, new team, new part of the business and I now have ‘senior’ in my title (which means very little, but makes me feel a bit more special!).

It’s taken a few interviews, a lot of thinking, much discussion with people with bigger brains than me, and a heap of negotiating with various HR departments who seemed to be trying to diddle me a bit (and then having to tell them the letter I was about to sign with my new details on had given me an unexpected (and incorrect) pay rise of £5k – that took a lot to admit to rather than just sign!), but here we are.  I’ve done my last day in my old role, packed up my desk and on Monday I’ll be the new girl.  Gulp.

Packing up my desk. I have A LOT of stuff.

Packing up my desk. I have A LOT of stuff.

A few people have suggested that I use this opportunity to reinvent myself.  My problem is, I’m not sure how.  I don’t have time to identify a new look and anyway, I’d never pull off something professional and sophisticated.  I have taken my boots in to the shoe menders be re-heeled though, so maybe that counts?  No? Oh.

So possibly a new personality?  A bit more professional?  Well I’m going to try not to tell anyone I’ll be buggering them, or taking stick insects with me to the office, and I’ll try to make sure I don’t wander round with noodles stuck to my nose.  I’ll also do my best not to give my new boss my parent’s phone number instead of mine, resulting in an awkward conversation.  But I have a feeling that there will still be incidents, however much I try to change.

I’m going to miss my old team a lot.  A while back we decided our office wasn’t terribly creative so I made a crocheted owl tree – one for each of us.  I also posted one to each person in the team around the world.  I thought most of them would just consider getting me a straight jacket for Christmas and use the owl as a dog toy or something.  Today I send out a goodbye e-mail to everyone…and they sent me back owl selfies.  They all still have them. That made me very, very smiley :o)

the owl tree

the owl tree

I’m a bit scared about the new challenges (and there are many of them in taking this role, believe me!), but I’m excited about meeting a whole office of new people.  I hope some of them like me.  Maybe I’ll try out the professional bit for a few days and see how it goes.  If it goes badly, at least I’ll be breaking them in gently.  And at least I’ll have a few things to tell you about on here :o)

The view from what is now my old office.

The view from what is now my old office.

 

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Beards and suspicions

Posted on November 7, 2014 by thepogblog

I posted a picture of Little Pea on the company intranet today, wondering if he was perhaps the littlest Mo Bro out there (It’s Movember, for anyone that means nothing to).  The background of the picture is this…

A few weeks ago, some of my friends in Tacloban were discussing a crochet hat on Facebook.  They were discussing it in Waray (the local language) though, so I didn’t understand anything, other than my name, which had been mentioned.  I asked for a translation and they said they’d been saying that they thought I could make the hat.  I said I’d see what I could do…

Tomorrow I’ll be posting the hat to the mum of a little boy I met out there.  I think he could be rather hot in it, because this is the hat that turned little Pea into a Mo Bro:

hat

He’s had quite a few ‘likes’ and comments on the work intranet.  Sadly, one person informed me he can’t be a Mo Bro as the rules state the Mo can’t meet the beard, but hey, it gave a few people a Friday smile :o)

(The pattern for the beard is here, should you want to make your own)

And in other news, I was contacted at work this week by someone who wanted to report receiving a suspicious email.  As that sort of thing is not related to my job, I asked why they’d contacted me.  It turns out that if you search the company intranet for ‘suspicious activity’ the first name that appears is mine.  In a company of 55,000.  Hmmm.

Well, between that and the beard hat picture, at least if I ever left the company, I’ll be leaving a varied trail of content behind :o)

 

 

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Little Pea and me, and some bulbs and jam tarts

Posted on November 4, 2014 by thepogblog

On Saturday I had a long overdue Little Pea and Me afternoon.  We had plans.  And I realised why you should never have too many plans with an 18 month old in tow.  In fact, there are a few things that I learned which I’ll now pass on for any other aunties out there…

1 – When strapping a Little Pea in his car seat, pull the straps tight.  If you don’t, you’ll look round a few miles into your journey to discover that your nephew may be related to Houdini as both arms are free and there’s a good chance he’ll be completely out of his seat in seconds.  This results in the fastest entry you’ve ever made into a pub car park rectify the situation.

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2 –  Use a trolley with a child seat rather than thinking ‘a walk would be nice’ at the garden centre.  That nice walk will result in numerous sit downs to ‘broom, broom’ the car Little Pea is carrying, a heart stopping few seconds when you think you might have actually lost him, and a need to call yourself ‘Auntie Pog’ loudly and repeatedly so that people don’t assume you’re his Mum and have absolutely no control over him.  Being an auntie with absolutely no control is somehow ok in my head.

3 – Avoid dragons.  in fact, avoid all garden statues, even water features.  In order to leave any of them, you will both have to say goodbye to every one.  At least 97 times each.

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'Nope, I'm not going anywhere'

‘Nope, I’m not going anywhere’

4 – Don’t assume that Mummy will be happy with you for filling him up with Jaffa cakes, thinking it’s ok because he didn’t eat his lunch.  Oops.

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5 – Putting your old gardening T-shirt on Little Pea might seem sensible…

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….until he pours most of a watering can of water over him, stretching it and making walking something between frustrating and impossible.

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6 – Check where Little Pea plants the bulbs.  It may look like they’re all going in the pots, but in fact you may find a small pile of them in a corner of the patio the next day

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7 – Making jam tarts may work as an activity for around 30 seconds…

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….but will soon progress to eating of raw pastry, interspersed with a bit of hunting to find Norman Cat.

'Do you want some?'

‘Do you want some?’

'If I do this slowly...'

‘If I do this slowly, without making eye contact…’

'If I do this slowly, veeery slowly...'

‘… veeery slowly…’

'...she might not notice...'

‘…she might not notice.’

'Me? Raw pastry? Nope...'

‘Oops!  She caught me.’

 

Despite everything, most of the bulbs got planted, the jam tarts were made and Little Pea was taken home by Mummy (Sister 1) in one piece.

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After cleaning the kitchen and lounge of pastry and taking most of my possessions off the windowsill, where Little Pea clearly felt they all belonged, I decided to cook dinner.  At this point, Norman, possibly feeling a bit left out, jumped onto the kitchen counter to help, I shouted and he knocked all of the jam tarts on the floor.  I threw away the ones that landed in his biscuit bowl, but figured I’d just cleaned everything so the others should be ok.  On Sunday I gave some to Sister 1 and some to my Mum and Dad.  With the suggestion that when (if?) they eat them, they have an antibiotic chaser, just to be safe :o)

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Special communication – from Popes to Pogimals

Posted on October 24, 2014 by thepogblog

My job title is ‘Internal Communications Specialist’.  I should be a specialist when it comes to communicating.  But mostly, I’m just special.

I was quite proud this week when I wrote a letter to the Pope (if you want to see why I did that, take a look at my other blog).  I think I sounded quite eloquent, which is pretty much a first for me.  I did want to start it ‘Dear Mr Pope’ and add a few pictures to brighten it up, but I restrained myself as it was a pretty serious letter.  I did want to email too, but finding the right address was an issue.  I called the Vatican switchboard and spoke to a couple of nuns, which isn’t something you often do on a Thursday morning, but it didn’t really work out.  Possibly because you can’t mime through the language barrier on the phone.  It was also quite fun going to a post office where the staff never smile let alone speak, and having the lady laugh, tell me it was her very first letter to the Vatican and ask me why I was sending it.  That on its own was worth the 97p stamp.

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But that eloquence was a bit of a one off.  You may remember a few years ago I made animals out of socks.  I called them Pogimals:

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One of my friends recently contacted me to see if I would make another for her daughter.  Unfortunately I don’t have the time right now as life is a little chaotic and I’m trying to make some of my Christmas presents too (and last year I promised myself I wouldn’t still be making them at midnight on Christmas Eve!)  Instead, I suggested she make a simple one with her daughter – I’d send her some instructions….

So I did.  It was only as I actually sent them that I realised just how bad my pictures were.  In fact, my friend wrote back to thank me…and tell me she’d almost wet herself laughing.  Here’s a couple of the pictures I drew.  See what you think:

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I’m thinking I should stop trying to draw ANYTHING.  Especially when at work I did a video story board at my boss’s boss request and under this picture:

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I felt I had to explain that it wasn’t a flasher, it was a man holding a balloon and I’d run out of hairstyle ideas, which wass why he was wearing a hat.

Back to the crochet I think….  :o)

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