Some weeks disappear in a hurry when you are busy, busy, busy. This was one of those weeks.
I've never had expert marketing support before and Monday was my first stab at looking at a fresh campaign. All these buzz words are new of course. 'Collateral' sounds like something out of the Bourne Identity to me. I have to admit that professional marketing help certainly shakes up your approach and headset, even if ultimately some of the ideas are out of kilter with your remit. It challenges you out of your comfort blanket. As I get older, I realise that I've become more and more inclined to play safe and less and less inclined to take risks.
On the other hand Tuesday reminded me that there are a lot of risks associated with living. Sat on the M1 car park for two hours (due to an accident that closed it in both directions, just short of Woolley Edge services and less than twenty miles from Leeds with 160 miles left to Hereford) I had set off needing to get diesel but as I always put it off until the mileage countdown makes it totally obligatory and unavoidable, I really did need fuel. I had a choice. Run out and cause more distress but amuse my fellow road sufferers with the AA or put my hazards on and go up the hard shoulder to the services. Only I couldn't find my hazards.
I'm sure it's obvious where they are but it isn't obvious to me. Whatever. I did go up the hard shoulder for one mile on an indicated three miles of diesel with a clear conscience - though I fully expected to be stopped by a nice young policeman and handed a huge fine. Hey ho. Such is life.
But no. Or at least but not yet. Once filled up, I noticed the steady stream of wagons ignoring the 'hotel guests only' warning at the bottom of a steep hill that looked suspiciously like it lead to a bridge over the motorway and allowed you back on the other side to go home. Figuring that wagon drivers know best, I followed my leaders and two minutes later whizzed merrily back north on an empty motorway and rejoiced that I'd nearly run out of fuel. But hadn't. You see Dad, sometimes incurring your unknowing wrath yields risky but unexpectedly good results.
Determined to make Hereford despite the odds and less than an hour late via Manchester, I did. What a lovely old town it is. The surrounding countryside is just super. It reminded me of LEJOG and the second section from Bristol up to Telford which was probably the most enjoyable part of the trip looking back.
Cancelling all other appointments, I got back to Wakefield the way I should have travelled but in three hours flat (which wasn't bad, considering that was round Birmingham in rush hour) and made my first Yorkshire Philharmonic Choir rehearsal. What a fantastic experience that was in a room of approximately 80 wonderful voices and me! The pieces are Carmina Burrano and Mise which are new to me but I found myself joining in where I could with the complex music scores and loved every moment of it. After a few weeks I will be auditioned to see whether I'm good enough to have a place. Fingers crossed because I know I'd really like one.
Wednesday was another strategy day, refining the marketing approach but also laying more foundations for Pink Power which I have been quietly developing in my head over the past months of being terribly unwell post LEJOG. This is, I hope, the vehicle that will fundraise for the Yorkshire Haven and become my legacy. I've played with it previously but after all the things that have happened these past three years, I have decided to do it properly in a business like but charitable way. Now is the time.
Thursday, I ventured to the University of Bradford Business School. What a fabulous, fabulous place it is. I'd applied to their executive MBA programme on a part-time study basis and went along to look around the facilities, meet the staff and decide whether to be interviewed. It's been a long time since I was last interviewed for anything and I forgot as we chatted away that assessment can be and often is conducted informally. Two hours later, I was recommended as a candidate that should be offered a place and I walked out feeling like I'd arrived 'home'. Sometimes you just know, don't you? I've always wanted to do a doctorate and maybe this is the place, one day, where that dream will come through.
Friday 13th could have been awful and I didn't get to the Haven for lunch or wine o'clock but for me, at least, it was a day to receive a formal MBA offer while sat in Leeds Bradford premier lounge awaiting the evening flight to Amsterdam. My Uni mate Vikki lives somewhere unpronouncable near Schiphol airport and I've been threatening to visit her for ever. Three years since we last caught up in London, in a whoosh of dutch travel infrastructure, I was out of the airport on to a fast train to Leiden and then in a taxi, arriving just in time to read a pre (late) bed story to two excited french-dutch-english children that mix and match languages like I change my shoes. I so admire that in anyone.
We immediately set about catching up those three years over champagne and dominos pizza which is just as consistent here in the land of clogs as it is in Yorkshire and as with all Great Friendships, no matter that the years in between have been a long time, we are off and back to full throttle friends. You can't beat it for Fizz Friday.
Waking here this Saturday morning in the children's playroom, I'm disappointed there's been no tapping on the door at a terrifyingly early hour. Some of these toys look awesome but I'd look a bit strange if I got caught playing with them by myself.
We are off shopping later in said unpronouncable town but in the cold dark taxi drive last night, I could see that Leiden and its environs are well heeled suburbs of somewhere and it turns out that somewhere is 'Den Haag'. I've never been to the Hague before though it's a famous legal destination for a lot of infamous people. I'm really interested to see it tomorrow as my flight doesn't go back until late so I've got 48hrs in the Netherlands to enjoy.
Knowing Vik, it will be epic. Our weekends together always are. X
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