Thursday, 17 January 2019

I feel a RavenRant coming on. You have been warned—but please read it anyway

Before you all wonder WTF let me show you this...

Now I'm no lawyer but I thought it was a legal requirement, or at last some effort had to be made to help any disabled person who wished to use use a shop. And if my reading is correct new or updated premises do need to make sure there is access. 

If anyone in the UK can clarify this, please do because it seems that at the point of writing (ranting) Sophie still hasn't had an answer from the store chain. They said they'd get back to her but...

It seems crazy in this day and age that a section of the population are in effect barred from doing something the rest of us take for granted. I can't imagine how it must feel to get somewhere and then be told, 'no sorry, you can't come in.' Not because you've done anything wrong, but because you can't get your wheelchair up the steps or manoeuvre your crutches through a too small door. Or whatever. 

Discrimination for any reason, (colour, creed, political inclinations, disability, wearing a maroon jumper, having a nose ring, red hair, you name it,) is not right. N O T......R I G H T......

Seriously, I mean I'm left handed, once upon a time I'd be burnt at the stake for being a witch. (No comments about that, thank you 😜😜😜😜😜) And even as a child (yes over half a century ago I know) some of me peers were forced to write right handed, but I think, hope, we've got past that.

So why haven't we got past singling out a large number of our community, and in effect banning them for doing what comes naturally to the rest of us?

Will be interested to hear the shop's response...if...when..

Gets off soap box and has a still drink.

Happier reading,

love Raven xx


Thursday, 10 January 2019

It's Evernighties Thursday. Me... a pram... and a library book

this week...

My first memory...

Goodness that's going back a bit. Okay a lot. snigger

To when I was in my pram. 

(source pinterest)

One of those big old fashioned one that my three cousins had used before me. And my other cousin did after me. We were all very accommodating and came two years apart. I slotted in between cousins #3 and #4.

My first memory involves books. Funny that eh? 

I was sitting up in the pram, the hood was down. It was summer (or warm anyway) and we were outside a row of shops in Occupation Road, Corby, Northants. The town where I was born.

My mum was talking to Maisie Ramsay,  mum of my friend Sheena. We were on our way to the library (so mum told me many years later when I asked her about it). The books were at the bottom of the pram. Evidently I grabbed one.

And this is where the proper part of my memory starts. I can vividly see myself turning it over and over, trying to flip the pages. Eventually I gave up and began to eat it instead. That's when it was removed from my orbit. And I cried!

But my love of books has remained, although now I write them as well as reading them.

Oh and mum said it was a romance!

Happy Reading,

love Raven x

Thursday, 3 January 2019

A regular but probably irregular post. Today the favourite thing i've written and why

Which means I'll do it when I can...

Not that I wear a nightie, Evernightie or not, but I love the idea of this blog. After all who doesn't like a wee peek into the mind of others.

So here we go...

The favourite thing I've written and why... Apart from those two magic words 'The End'.

And sadly I wrote that and bit my nail. 


My favourite thing is either what I'm writing (or alternatively I think it's rubbish) or well... *scratches head* no idea.

I have things I think are written better than others. (Master springs to mind, that might not be a best seller but got to me) but favourite? That's like asking me whether I prefer chocolate or chocolate. 
(Answer, whatever chocolate I have handy)

So I sat and had a big think...
and I came up with

*Drum Roll*

The Tale of Rumple Rabbit


George, the Whatever Bird.

Now I guess you're scratching your heads and wondering what planet I am on. 

you won't have heard of them, very few people have, but I assure you they were very well received by their audience.

My kids.

Both had a beginning a middle and an end (well duh) and sad to say a moral. A well needed reminder about things that needed doing. As in Rumple Rabbit never put his clothes away tidily—in fact they were often thrown on the floor, even when his mummy had ironed them (Sound familiar anyone?) So mummy stopped ironing them and instead of a neat and well turned out rabbit he was, well, rumpled. 

Did it work? Nah, but my son still remembers the story. And now in his thirties he is evidently just the same *snigger*.

As for George, the Whatever Bird... that was a hoot and it did work. George had a terrible habit of answering any question with 'whatever'. (By the way, my son is not called George, or Rumple for that matter)

So his mummy would say, George what would you like for dinner, and he would say 'whatever.' 

I (and therefore George's mum) got mighty fed up with this. So the next time (in the story) George answered the what would you like for dinner question with whatever, he was both surprised and disappointed to turn up to the dinner table and be presented with a slice of bread, no spread. When he asked what it was, his mummy told him. 'That is whatever is today."

Did he learn his lesson? Oh no. So the next day it was a glass of water. By the third day in the story, when there was nothing on the tale, he gt the message.

So did my children... *Wink*

And that dear readers is a quick summing up of the favourite thing(s) I have written and why

Happy reading,

love Raven xx