The Yorkshire Mentality of ‘Gerronwi’it’

Ey up my lovelies, it's Yorkshire Day!

So what better time to talk about one of me favourite Yorkshire words than today?

The word in question is GERRONWI’IT.

Which in translation for all you non-Yorkshire folk simply means “hurry up and do what you said you were going to do!”

I’m writing about this today, because it seems that a large percentage of people I meet in life and property circles have a real tendency to not just gerronwi’it.

Now I know for most people wanting to progress in business, there will inevitably be a period of learning and education, getting things in place etc etc ... but then some folk procrastinate forever and do not actually do owt to get things moving.

 

 

It’s baffling to see; it’s almost as if they are scared to take the first step in case they fail immediately. 

 

I see these people frequently at various networking events: they tell me all about their plans, and months and months later, they still haven’t done anything about it since!

One chap that particularly makes me chuckle is the ‘Property Investor’ guy who’s not yet bought his first house in the last fifteen times/months I’ve seen him at events. At some point in the next twenty years he may actually be ready to crack on, who knows? 

Sometimes you’ve just got to do your business, or get off the potty!

Will they ever be ready to proceed?

Are they planning to take the first step at some point in the next century?

How long will it be before all those ducks are finally lined up in a row?

In short, are they ever going to gerronwi’it?!?

 

I don’t even know why I get so infuriated about other people and their lack of progress, it’s nowt to do wi me - but I just can’t register why people don’t do what they say they’re going to do!

Another phrase we have up here is “all mouth and no trousers (action)”

I hope that’s not you!!

I think it’s better to have a go at someat and fail than fail to try at all. 

After all, the average person only gets 4000 weeks to live - so why would you waste loads of them faffing about? 

Whatsupwiyer?!?

How many weeks have you used?!

Find out here...

https://www.thecalculatorsite.com/misc/age-calculator.php

How can you make progress and get to where you want to be if you don’t actually do ‘owt?!?

Here in Yorkshire, we generally have a tough mindset meaning we have a go at owt - cos we know if you do nowt, nowt happens. 

And now that Yorkshire’s finally caught up with the rest of Britain, i.e. we’ve got running water, leccy AND t’interweb - there’s no excuse to do any skiving!

 

 

So I believe there’s two types in folk in the world: ‘Gunners’ and ‘Gerronwi’its’.

As in “I’m gunner do this, I’m gunner do that...”

Oh aye, are you now?

Reyt, well gerronwi’it then. 

Instead of wittering about it forever.

So here’s my request from the beautiful White Rose county: please don’t waste any more of your valuable time.

Be a little Tyke and adopt the Yorkshire mentality - and then apply it to your business and entire life.

Wanna do someat?

 

So what type of person are you?!

Mek a decision about whether you’re a gunner or gerronwi’it.

And if you’re ever up here in God’s own country, give us a shout, and I will bully you into the right answer!

 

Have a great day, tek care, and sithee soon,

Kellyann x x x

 

  

PS  - if you'd like to see some examples of where I just gorronwi'it, please visit my website at www.kellyannmartin.co.uk

Good Riddance 2017 – Reflection, Correction and Downright Dissection

New Year’s Eve means the year is almost over, and to be blunt, I’ll be glad when it is.

I feel however hard I have tried these last twelve months, things have just kept continuously and relentlessly going wrong.

Sometimes it just isn’t your year.

I am generally a lucky person, and friends often describe me as one of the most positive people they know – but even I get downtrodden sometimes.

And to be fair, some good things have happened this year: a trip to Florence and Pisa, a mentorship in the Cayman Islands, running a 10k race whilst raising £250 for charity, and best of all, acquiring, refurbishing and renting out three more houses to local families.  

But far more bad things have happened, too many to list and pointless to dwell on - but this continuous chain of unpleasant events have caused a massive confidence crisis in my own mindset.

 

 

In short, I am not where I want to be.

I am disappointed in myself.

I have let myself down.

 

 

I very rarely fail at anything; the last major event being abysmally failing my basic Cycling Proficiency Test aged 10 (which gives you some indication of my gormless co-ordination skills!)

I feel like a failure, and it is an unpleasant feeling which I am not used to.

I have struggled for weeks to regain my natural motivation and mojo. My get-up-and-go has got up and went. And one doubt continuously creeps into my mind: what if I’m just not good enough for this?

Despite proving that I am, that I can do it - because I already have - that one niggling thought continues to cling, evade and disrupt, and it is a real struggle to shake off.

 

So let’s imagine the worst case scenario: I am a failure at this, and I must go back and get a ‘real job’. Getting up early and dragging my sorry ass out of bed in the dark. Doing the long, tedious driving commute, where the most exciting thing that prevents boredom is when an 80s classic comes on the radio. Arriving at the workplace, aka the ‘dark satanic mills’, trudging into my room. Desperately wishing it was hometime already, willing the time and drudgery to go quicker. Putting up with other people’s nonsense and stupid behaviour, smiling and being polite, because that’s what my contract insists I have to do. Attending irrelevant meetings, making noteless notes on pointless policies. Power trips from the senior management team, just because they can, not because they’re competent. And then commuting home, traipsing mindless work with me, which eats into my own free time. Tired all the time, miserable, fed up, bored, and doing what other people tell me.

Is that what I really want?

Is that not why I left in the first place?

From being a bizarre, weird little only child, I always knew I was different. Independent. Forthright. Freestyle.

I'm just not the norm.

I’m not sure why I spent so many years trying to fit in, when I was born to stand out.

And because of this, it pisses me right off when I don’t get to do whatever I want.

So a normal job was never going to be right for me, because quite simply, I don’t like being told what to do.

Young Kellyann dreams of the future...
 ...where she can grow up and work herself to death doing things she doesn't like for other people.
Yay!
Who wants to be normal anyway?

Is it thus going to be true that I’m not cut out for a ‘non-normal job’ as well?

Well that depends on me, I suppose.

You see, you and I, and everyone, are essentially infinite choice-makers in every moment of our existence.

And it is a stinging realisation that this year has been, in my eyes, unsuccessful - because of me.

Being self-employed means being self-starting, self-productive, self-directing and self-acting. There’s nobody coming to save me, help me, or to wipe my arse. It’s down to me, and me alone.

It is said that many of life’s failures are people who did not realise how close they were to success when they gave up.

 

If it was that easy, everyone would do it. But business owners are willing to sacrifice short term gratification, to experience pain and hardship, so that they can live their life long-term in ways other people can only watch and dream of.

So am I giving up and becoming “normal”?

Or am I drying my princess eyes, telling myself to toughen the fuck up and working harder to make next year far better?

What do you think?!

 

 

 

 

 

# DISCLAIMER WARNING - PROCEED WITH CAUTION #

 

Here's the barefaced truth I need, not something beautiful.

The following content is not suitable for pussies who can't handle the truth, or an abomination of F-bombs.

You have been warned!

 

 

Happy New Year everyone.

My very best wishes for 2018 x x x

 

 

BASHING THOSE BIRTHDAY BLUES INTO OBLIVION!

some of us have cakes that are just fire hazards   I’ll be honest, I dreaded waking up today. For today is my birthday, the day when many moons ago I burst forth from my mother at 6:35pm. Ain't she the lucky one?!! We’ll not even mention the stitches… Anyway, I found out many years ago that birthdays are always disappointing after the age of ten. Gone are the jelly and ice cream parties of the past, and instead, is a midlife crisis panic at being another year closer to death. Cheery! But also true. And as I laid in my bed this morning, sulking that my age had accumulated overnight, I contemplated where I was in life on this same day five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, and yes, sadly thirty years ago! I reflected on each of these particular years ranging from 2017 right back until 1987, and I asked myself about each situation: what was I doing? Was I successful? And most importantly, was I happy? Here’s the outcome of each year's memory, and because I love a linear timeline, I'll share my thoughts with you: 1987 – only child in a single parent family living in one of a few council houses within a well-to-do, curtain-twitching village of Drighlington where everyone else had two parents, a comfortable lifestyle and ample money to spare. I was shy and poor – but this made me resourceful and independent, and thus I was happy. Look at that little strange looking girlboy! Still, Nanna  loves her little tomboy. And check out the Duncan pub! And how cheap the cig machine was in those days! 1992 – started high school. Still a little shy, and as I looked like a Romanian orphan boy, it meant I had to develop a personality. This has served me well throughout my life, as it means I can interact well with other people. Living in the Duncan Pub in Leeds, did my first ‘taste of refurbishment’: spruced up a particular area of the pub cellar into my own little den with a carpet and furniture. Very happy. 1997 – had joined the air cadets a few years earlier and had developed confidence and mastered my cheeky and biting sense of humour. People say I’m funny! And not just funny looking… ;) Useful skill to have during my start at sixth form. More happy times. Still skint though. Hey ho! 2002 – just finished my English degree and decided to do teacher training at Leeds University. Thankfully, as per sixth form and my first degree, the government kindly subsidised my education with ‘underprivileged background’ grants, for which I am eternally grateful. I’d realised early on as a child that education was the key to a better life, and thus have always studied hard. I’m not particularly intelligent or academic, but shhh, here’s a secret: if you work hard enough, you’ll still achieve success. Still happy! 2007 – Miss Martin the high school English teacher! Finally had some money in my pocket! Took the opportunity a few years earlier to purchase my first property; the flat I lived in for the cheap cheery sum of £25,218. Still own it now, in fact it was a great help because I refinanced it to pull out its massively uplifted equity to fund my property training career. Glad to report I’m still happy at this point! 2012 – Getting older now and contemplating a change of career; teaching is incredibly tiring work and you don’t always get paid fairly. It used to do my nut in that I’d work really hard, get really good grades for my classes and still only got paid the same amount as the lazy useless drama teacher who skived half the year. It wasn’t fair! And October 3rd makes me a Libra, so we’re all about fairness and justice. Felt ok, but a bit fed up.   2017 – Full time professional property investor with a growing portfolio of houses for local tenants. Undertaken lots of property education, and met lots of lovely property people, many of which have been kind enough to help me on my journey. Well on the way to being where I want to be, in terms of success, portfolio, earnings and personal fulfilment. Not there yet, but still very happy, with absolutely no regrets about the major change my life has taken. Happy? I love what I do. If I won the lottery this week, I would still buy scabby houses and do them up! Just faster… Hmm, this blog has taken a totally unexpected turn from what I’d planned! But, we’ll accept our choice that this unknown road has taken, and I’ll share the lessons - Miss Martin style – that I extracted this morning from my reminiscing. I hope they help inspire you in some way. Lesson 1 – just because you’re poor, it doesn’t mean you have to be unhappy. This leads on to my next lesson, which happens to be my new favourite quote: Lesson 2 – If you are born poor, that’s not your fault. But if you die poor, that’s entirely your fault. Lesson 3 – you are not trapped in a situation forever. Education is the key to a better future. Even if you’re not that clever, hard work and sustained effort pays off. Lesson 4 – if you’re feeling fed up – birthday or otherwise – have a think back to where you were 5/10/15/20 years ago. It’s only by looking back that we can see how far we’ve come. Lesson 5 - if something is not making you entirely happy, change it. Why stick to doing something you don’t absolutely love? Why worry what other people will say about your life choices? You choose your choices, and it’s nobody else’s business what they are. Look at my happy little face! Being poor doesn't matter if you're happy and supported, because you can always choose to improve yourself. Hence one of my big whys is to provide families with safe, comfortable housing so that the kids feel secure enough to go on and improve their life situation in future                                         - just like I did. So there we go. And after my sulking, reminiscing, epiphany and gratitude, I got up, dressed up and showed up to my birthday. I took my lovely giver-of-life mummy to the local shopping centre and traipsed her round the shops, as a reward for birthing a legend. (And so modest too!!!) I ate my dinner at my favourite Miller and Carter restaurant, and I thoroughly enjoyed smashing down that top end fillet steak. And I was grateful for everything I am and everything I have, and counted my blessings, even at my grand old age, at how lucky I was to be alive. Because it’s definitely better than the alternative. EVERY DAY ABOVE GROUND’S A GOOD ONE. PS - I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who sent me birthday wishes. It makes the process of getting older less traumatic to know that people are thinking of you, so thanks for cheering an old lady up!