Wry Vita - Marion Ryan's personal blog - blog designer, business coach, lawyer of attraction and good-enough mum

Perfect Moments

God, I'm happy today.

I'm having a life moment of unadulterated bliss and what's great about that is there is plenty of reason for me to feel bummed-off but instead I feel happy.  And isn't that just the perfect way to be - happy despite everything?

I managed to find my way to 8am mass this morning which always makes me feel I've done something right, met some nice Americans and came home with warm French bread for breakfast. 

First, though, a walk for Wagster and me and the rain overnight had released the perfume in all the damp grass so his nose went crazy and he raced around, wondering if he was going to find a rabbit or a mouse at the end of the trail.

Home and having found the most perfect and enormous watermelon in the shops this week, I then made two pints of watermelon and banana smoothie for me and Our Kid.  Died-and-gone-to-heaven R Us.

And then this precise moment (7pm) I'm happy because the house is peaceful.  Everyone is doing something they enjoy doing and they are all doing it in different rooms - hurray for that.  Ok, I confess there's a dog and a cat sharing my space but they are both restful and dozing.

I'm working in the snooker room and the sun is pouring through the window in front of me.  Yes, my office has a pool / snooker table in it.  After all, I am the CEO around here.  Next week my office might have a bed in it!  I have to chase the broadband signal, see, and Three love working on the masts in this area so that what works like a dream one day doesn't function at all the next. 

I draw the line at working in the toilet though.  At that point, the universe is telling me to give the feck up and get a life away from the laptop.

So why else am I happy?  My mum, yes the same one who left this world very nearly six months ago has been working a lot of magic in my life this month.  She is now an angel, the ringleader of a whole posse of the little cherubs, and she has been showing me how to work miracles.  I can't yet talk about one particular miracle but apart from that, she's been helping me stay focussed on work projects just when it's really important, she has rounded up loads of work to come my way and yesterday evening she sent me a heart in the sky!  Yes, you think I'm crazy but in a sky covered in clouds there was a heart-shaped opening which made me laugh.  I even had my camera in my pocket, first time I've ever taken it out on one of our walks so I got a pic of it, though not a very clear one.

Oh yes, she also helped me to a rare pool victory over Our Kid earlier today because we both knew he was cheating, not to mention a one-point win for Mayo, her home county, over Galway in the Connaught Football Final this afternoon!

I know I've worked a bit too hard this weekend but there has been so much to do.  In about 10 days I'll have the folks over to stay with me and that will involve rest, relaxation and a week's break in the West of Ireland so it is absolutely right to make hay while the sun shines.

There are stuffed mushrooms with garlic dip for tea (and a dozen other choices if we choose) and some of the sweetest juicest peaches in the world...

If I feel tired later, I'm going to have an early night with Stuart, that's Stuart Wilde who wrote "The Trick to Money is Having Some!"  It's a few years since I read this but it's such a great book that I'm re-reading it now.

I'm so grateful for the abundance that is everywhere around me.  I completely accept the hard parts of my life even when I don't like them.  I have a hundred times more things to appreciate than things to worry over.

A five star day.  Thank you.

Customer Service - Hot and Not

I popped into the local video shop the other day to rent an X-Box game for Our Kid only to find - Saturday evening - the one he wanted wasn't available.  As there were only 827 other options to choose from he declared loudly that nothing else was of the slightest interest and that was that.

I suggested he asked the guy behind the counter when "Raging Murderous Lunatics" would be back in at which point we discovered they had only one copy and it had been nicked!  That might have been that but he then proceeded to find out what the critical elements were - explosions, gangland warfare, blood etc - and then, with all the respect a 13 yr old wouldn't normally receive, he spent 10 minutes promoting a range of equally vile and violent games to him.

When, at the end of all this which would have been worth zilch to him in terms of commission, Our Kid says "nah, I just want Raging Murderous Lunatics" he smiled and said "not to worry, hope you'll find it somewhere else".

I was smiling to myself as we returned to the car.  Earlier that week I had planned to do business with another local company which was worth around €800 to the business and would have given the saleswoman a very generous commission and yet she did NOTHING to engage me or promote her range of products.

I spent well over an hour with her and while she was fairly curious about me (politically incorrect comment alert - small town Irish people can be horribly nosy and think nothing of asking you when your last bowel movement was), she didn't use any of the information I gave her to sell me on her product, didn't try creating any rapport, and, now I think about it, turned up late to our appointment,

I am just so delighted that in the end I found another solution that meant I didn't have to make a purchase from her.

Funny thing is I have met her before so I know she's a long-term professional 'saleswoman' in her industry while most people working in video shops (I imagine) don't see the job as a permanent career.

Complacency and arrogance are not good sales tactics and while I could have expected it from a young part-time employee, maybe a student earning extra cash on a Saturday evening, it's frankly irritating to get it from someone who is supposedly a professional.

Giving great customer service takes time and in a world of narrow margins and looming deadlines it can be a pain in the jacksie.

But it's better than the alternative, isn't it?

As a small business-owner I know I don't always get it right or get it quickly enough.  But as much as I can I try to over-deliver.  Three clients have recently told me "you go the extra mile" and that is just what I set out to do.

I once spent a happy few months working in the box office at Wembley Stadium (the original one) and regularly used to get into trouble with the manager for my figures.  Her screen would show her how many calls we were getting through in an hour and I was always bottom of the league.

Of course when it was sale day for a major band or sporting event it was wham bam, get your tickets and get off the line.  But when it was a regular day filled with anxious mothers wondering if little Kylie would be able to see the ice show if they sat in the fourth row or snooker fans hoping to get ringside seats for the Masters final, then it was good to build some rapport and goodwill.  I thought so anyway even if Christine didn't.

Customer service is one of my regular rants but I keep coming back to it.  What started me off actually was a Google search for a new laptop this morning and looking up a national retailer.  The top searches returned were all slagging off their customer service!  Well that's saved me a journey.

We know from the demise of so many big and medium-sized names in this recession that no business is safe any more.  So what do I want from the people I do business with?

• Interest in what they're selling
• Interest - just the right amount - in me
• Their belief and evidence that their product is right for me
• Some rapport (oh God, that's reminded me of a horrible Tesco employee who made my skin crawl the other day but don't get me started again)
• Personality and people skills

That's enough to be going on with.  And it's not too much to ask - is it?

Mama, thank you for who I am...

Took the Wagster for a walk this morning in the sunshine, reflecting on how my life has changed this year - for poorer and for richer.  Happened upon Il Divo on my Ipod, listened to this and had a good cry as I walked.  I think the neighbours are getting used to 'the crying dog-walker'.

Enjoy...

Mama I hope this makes you smile

I hope you're happy with my life

At peace with every choice I made

How I've changed along the way...

Cause I know you believed in all of my dreams

And I owe it all to you, Mama

Take three minutes and give gratitude for your own.

Cracking Up - In More Ways than One

Thanks to Cork Opera House for making me chuckle this morning.

In fact, I've been laughing quite a lot this week despite stuff happening that will change the entire course of the rest of my life - and I've no idea where this path is leading.  How exciting is that?

I was chatting to Judith on Thursday morning, catching up with events and deciding what we needed to tap on.  Usually, one or other of us has had an emotional run-in with someone we need to tap out of our system.  Not because we are grumpy menopausal old women, you understand, but because we are so programmed for love and abundance to all living creatures that the odd little spat disturbs our equilibrium and we have to clear it out quick so we can get back to the business of deeply and completely loving and accepting ourselves and them. 

I told her that I'd gone to bed the night before and read something inspiring and wonderful in the book I'd picked up "The Astonishing Power of Emotions - Let your Feelings be your Guide" (Abraham-Hicks).  And I'd picked up that book because in the Great Clear-Up I had tidied away the book I was already reading, Patrick Veitch's "Enemy Number One" and couldn't find it.

I heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line.  "You've lost your book?  God, that was some clear-up", she said with awe.

At which we both lost it, our composure that is, and had a right hearty laugh.  Clearly, she has never known the joy of emptying the laundry basket and finding the cat food or spotting a much-loved CD at the back of the fridge, or indeed unzipping a pocket in her handbag and discovering a long-forgotten two hundred quid.

It's simple pleasures like these that add sparkle to the day.

This morning, Cork Opera House have added a bit more sparkly stuff.

I went online to book tickets for a forthcoming production and naturellement, there was the obligatory booking fee.

When they emailed me my booking confo, I was delighted to see I hadn't been charged a booking fee after all - no, just a convenience fee.

This might mean I am paying in advance for the use of their toilets but if not, the management have obviously been reading The Power of Positive Thinking, and decided that booking online is something that makes life so wonderfully convenient, it really shouldn't be classed as a 'booking' fee at all.

Talking of paying to use the toilets, I also happened to pop over to the Ryanair website to see where I would be taking the lovely Mary Spain later this year when we go away somewhere European for three days of laughter therapy.  (Note to self - no more German hair cuts). 

I had to check the calendar - is it the 1st April today?  Ryanair are polling their visitors: would you be prepared to stand up on short flights if they made the tickets even cheaper?  What is cheaper than zero, I wonder?

Helpfully, they have provided a visual so you can make an informed decision:

I know, I know, I've promised never to fly Ryanair again, since they made me prove my bag was the right size when flying home after my mum's funeral.  I started flinging things out of my case until it fit into their wretched frame and then they relented.  But then I did fly with them again and they were on time and didn't give a rat's arse about the size of any of our bags.  So I'm quite glad I took a look at the website this morning as they've given me another laugh.

I wonder how many extra people they can fit in if we're all standing?  It could end up feeling quite claustrophobic as naturally, it's a space-saving exercise.

I do remember trips to work on the Drogheda-Dublin train when it would be so jam-packed, I would fantasise about hopping up and lying in the luggage rack.  I've done it before.  Not in Ireland, admittedly, but when travelling on buses in China.  Perhaps it's all changed now but when I was there, they wouldn't sell us (Westerners) tickets for the lower bunks.  We could only get top bunk tickets.

If you have had the great pleasure of not travelling in China, let me tell you their top bunks are based on the luggage rack model.  You have about six inches between your face and the roof of the bus.  HORRIBLE. 

Dangerous places too.  While I was dangling out the window, waiting to leave whichever city we were in, my flippin glasses were pinched out of my pocket.

Someone tried to steal my brother's shoes too.  A less successful operation as he was wearing them at the time.  He was lying dozing in the top bunk (luggage rack) and could feel his laces being undone and then someone pulling at his heels.  He shuffled his feet to let the criminal know he knew what was going on but they kept at it.  I can't believe anyone in China even has feet that big!

Ok, that's enough laughter for a Sunday morning.  I've got nothing to laugh about right now anyway.  Nothing, nothing, nothing.  Life is cracking up.  Thank God I still can too.

Invasion of the Garden Snatchers and Other 'Tails'

Another eventful week in the land of Ryan. 

The times they are a changing alright and it will soon be time to share some stuff here with you.  If it wasn't at the top of my list of most hated phrases, I would say - watch this space.

It's horrible, don't you agree?  Like you're all going to sit there, watching WryVita blog do nothing for weeks on end, just waiting for me to fill the space with some earth-shattering news.  And invariably the people who are annoying enough to say 'watch this space' are dopy enough to forget to ever tell you what it was they were being so annoyingly mysterious about and that's because it's an event that no-one except their mother would possibly give two hoots about.

So please - whatever you don't do - don't watch this space.

For now, let's stick with the drama of a dying cat and Invasion of the Garden Snatchers.

The worst parts about Blackie almost dying are:

a) She's the cat who has always been hardest to love

b) We almost didn't notice she was very ill.

She has always been the black sheep-cat of the family and you can read about that and how I learnt to love her here.

I don't treat any of our animals like replacement children but those family members who do, tend to treat Fluffy like a one-eyed God who must be worshipped, simply because he looks at you with his one very beautiful eye and does a silent miaow.  He enjoys being picked up, he loves being cuddled and will happily sleep on your lap for several days at a time, making it extremely difficult to forget about him - especially when you stand up suddenly and feel 19 claws sinking into your thighs.  (He has a missing toe).

And then Waggy is in-yer-face and and controls his pack with an iron-paw.  He makes Lechero (Prison Break, season three) look like a, like a... pussycat.

And then there's Blackie.  Everyone forgets about Blackie.  She's self-contained and dignified and the last time I blogged about her I was talking about the "healing bliss of complete contentment" which she so beautifully demonstrated as she sat meditating in front of the fire.

And so when each time I spotted her she was sitting still and quiet in her bed in the utility room, I thought nothing of it.  The weather was roasting and I figured all the animals just wanted to be still and stay cool.  It wasn't until I saw her outside the back door, simply gazing at the ground, that I realised something was wrong.

The vet's opening offer was unsavoury:  "She's very ill indeed and I can't see her making it through the night - but I'd like to keep her here and see what we can do.  Ring me in the morning".

He shaved her leg and struggled to find a vein but managed eventually to put her on a drip before filling her to the gills with antibiotics.

And the next day, she was still with us.  Shaky and skinny but back from the dead.  She has let us fuss over her, knowing that's what we need right now, but she remains unflustered and calm.

Blackie's illness, I believe, served a purpose in our lives this week.  More than one, actually but the easiest to share here is that it reminded us to appreciate the beautiful day-to-day parts of life that we take for granted. 

But what purpose are these cows serving in my life?  Earlier on today, they hot-hooved it up the length of the field where I assume the farmer must have been calling them to their Sunday fry-up.  But even as I write these words, they have all come back down and are congregating just outside my fence.  

Invasion of the Garden Snatchers.

I'm hoping to spot the first one making a break for my grass at which point I will run outside and charge them with the kitchen broom and a snooker cue. 

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH  ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH  ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH

One breaches the fence.  I grab said broom and go out yelling "Out - Out - Out".

And do you know what happens?  I kid you not, there's a stampede and twenty cows come to stand and gaze in at me while a few of their mates come through to join the first cow and make themselves at home.  They're chewing the washing line and doing unspeakable things to each other.

Cows are very annoying creatures.

I could let Waggy outside because he will soon show them who's boss but that will start Cow Wars.

It's small - and twisted - revenge I know but dinner is a steak pie.